Mrs. Lorrie Flem

Tucked behind one of the blue sofas in our living room is one of my priceless treasures—an old seaman’s chest. This antique was a gift to me from my mom and daddy when I was about 12 years old. For some reason I took a hankering to this old chest and had my heart set on it. Once they said okay to what I imagine was endless pestering, I took this old chest under my wing and carefully arranged both things I had to put in it.

Over time my collection grew and I cherished putting things in my chest. I used my hope chest a little differently than most people. I remember the yard sale Mama had one year. As I helped, I am sure she wished I would stop. You see, as fast as she brought things out to sell, I took them in.

Opening the lid to my chest another thing you would find was a piece of wood I carved in the shape of a dinner knife. It was nicely labeled with my best adolescent penmanship, “I made this for Maa (my great-grandma) to open letters with.” Years later when Maa died, I asked for it from her things.

For me a hope chest symbolized wanting to get married and be a mother. This was my ultimate dream and I considered it the greatest achievement a female could attain. Staying at home and managing the household, being a help to her husband, raising godly children, and being the backbone of the family was what young women were raised to be and do.

Now, think about your own daughter as she opens her hope chest someday and begins setting these things into place in her first home. Doesn’t that just make you tear up? So special! I want my girls to have dreams like mine. I hope they want to marry and have families much more than they desire to have a career. One way to foster that dream is to start a hope chest. One thing I have done is buy each of the girls a teacup and saucer each birthday. When they leave home someday they will have sets of antique teacups to decorate with or serve tea to friends in.

Another tradition we continue is one that my mama and daddy did for us. We buy each of the children a Christmas ornament every year. It is always something special about that year. Each ornament is dated and carries their name. When each child leaves home they will take their collection of ornaments, each with a memory of a unique year of their life.

I will give my girls their christening gown, baby dresses and blankets, and any other childhood momentos I have saved, like baby books and favorite childhood storybooks to share with her own children. I will make sure they have old letters and photos of their grandparents and great-grandparents. I want my children to love and preserve the traditions and beliefs of my parents and grandparents. I want to make it as easy as possible for them to do so.

My idea is to start my daughters out with items from the day she was born, filled periodically with keepsakes and treasures—items that will bring her closer to her family, her ancestors, her roots, traditions, rituals, and values. I want Dessaly, Kiley, and Haley to have a sense of continuity between the generations and see their homemaking heritage in vivid detail, not a shadowy past.

You see, a hope chest is more like a treasure chest. It should be filled with things that will make her smile the rest of her life. Each thing will symbolize a poignant moment, special place, or memorable time in your child’s life, or of the one who gave it to her. Each object tucked inside holds something much more special than just what it is. It is the embodiment of a young girl’s hopes and dreams, as she waits for life to unfold. It’s about preserving a lifetime of memories and building a family legacy―a heritage.

Just by placing special items aside you are creating a hope chest. Your hope chest may start out as a shoebox. You may suddenly come across a chest in an antique or thrift store and realize what you could do with that old chest. You might ask your husband or son to make you a chest. Regardless, a hope chest is a collection, not a container.

My old seaman’s chest now has a new assignment. While it is tucked behind one of the sofas in my living room it holds the blankets my loved ones cuddle up with early in the mornings or on cool winter evenings in front of the fire. This old chest still warms my heart while it reminds me of my days spent lovingly filling it with treasures in preparation for the time that is now at hand, and at the same time brings a smile to my face as I look forward to the days to come.

This article is taken from one of Lorrie Flem’s regular columns in TEACH Magazine entitled Strolling Down Memory Lane.