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| This is how empowered I felt when my project was complete. |
A little
boredom may touch a family by breeding discontent, yet a lot of boredom breeds
adventure! After many years of going
places that children may originally view as a waste of time but then
discovering those places could be wonderful to explore, I began asking to go with my parents even when I
did not have to go.
One such
time began when Dad needed to line up tools and supplies for a work crew to
start a new construction job beginning
on Monday. We hopped in the four-wheel-drive
truck (well, I climbed in) and headed
for the equipment building, which sat about 45 minutes from our house one way. When we got there, I looked around inside the
building for a little while, but at that time Dad was still mostly in the
paperwork stage. He said I could explore
outside. Apparently the former renters
threw large, unwanted items in the gully out back. There was no nasty garbage, just stuff. Regardless of their reason for making the
discards, to me it was a treasure hunt.
Delighted,
I retrieved a small wooden box with "legs." I thought it was a footstool with a missing
"lid." Hurriedly I raced back
to Dad and explained my great plans. He
must have been able to appreciate great design when he heard it because he
replied, "I don't care. You can
take it home if you want." That
triggered a team effort to get to the final product completed.
At home,
Dad cut me a strong board to become the top or seat, and he let me borrow his
file or rasp to try to make the legs match better. Mom found a durable brown paint and a paint
brush for me to use to give it a good coating on all sides. Grandma Susie had the perfect spare
upholstery fabric for me to use on the sides and to cover the lid: brightly colored with flowers and fruit. Mom gave me some of the foam padding she used
in her self-taught upholstery projects, so my lid could double as a handy dandy
seat. Graciously, Mom also showed me how
to overlap the seam to avoid showing any raw edges or upholstery tacks. Finally,
it was finished; I was thrilled.
The
farm-based attitude of doing it yourself and the lesson that even boring places
can be exciting both led to this grand team effort. I still have that footstool. I took it to secretarial school and used it
under the desk in my residence hall. It
traveled with me to my apartments in Bloomington where I worked for a few
years, and after I was married with kids, it held some of my girls' take-home
Sunday school papers, which they could pull out and color when they wanted
them. For the last several years, the
growing crowded environment in my home relegated the footstool to a
closet. However, looking at my prized
(in my eyes) footstool brings back memories of my grandparents, parents, and
children. I think it is time for it to
reappear, so my other children can appreciate it and be touched by the history
behind it as well.
*When I am able, I will add a photo of it here.
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