Mystery revealed: rusty wonderings
So, as the sign on our outdoor loo used to say:
‘here tis’:
The “real” story behind this week’s mystery…
It was a clear sunny day, just before my sister’s wedding,
when a very special parcel arrived at her place,
addressed to me, from far, far away…
It came from a place in Pennsylvania, a place I had only ever heard of.
From a woman who thought she had something I might enjoy.
Someone she imagined might share with her a love of “old stuff”.
I had no idea what to expect in this box.
The possibilities seemed endless…
What on earth could it possibly be?
I opened it cautiously. Carefully. With great anticipation.
And under a carefully folded letter, I found this…
These…
I gasped.
A pair of rusty spurs.
They were just beautiful…
Then I read that carefully folded letter.
From Debby.
And I understood.
I understood that she had shared something important.Something fantastic.
Something earthy and real and filled with untold stories and wonder.
And I felt utterly humbled.
For these old, old spurs were found by her, when she was just 12.First one, on the banks of a creek near her home.
Then, a week later, the other.
She chanced on it, following her instincts, further down the same creek.
Spurs rusted and decayed from decades and decades and decades of weather.
Once worn by an unknown rider.
A man. Sometime before 1900. Maybe well before.
Possibly a Civil War soldier.
A man who lost both spurs one day.
Near a creek.
In rural Pennsylvania.
A man who had little idea his simple spurs would spark the imagination of a 12-year-old girl… And then, almost four decades later, a woman on the opposite side of the globe would hold them, feel them, and be transported with wonderings and ponderings.
…
He might have also been amazed that the intrigue would spread further. How could he know that the this-side-of-the-world woman had a four-year-old daughter would also hold them and demand that the carefully folded letter be read one more time. And as the words spilled once again over her little blonde head, her fingers would grip tighter over the rusty rollers and her brown eyes light up in wonder.
In rural Pennsylvania.
A man who had little idea his simple spurs would spark the imagination of a 12-year-old girl… And then, almost four decades later, a woman on the opposite side of the globe would hold them, feel them, and be transported with wonderings and ponderings.…
He might have also been amazed that the intrigue would spread further. How could he know that the this-side-of-the-world woman had a four-year-old daughter would also hold them and demand that the carefully folded letter be read one more time. And as the words spilled once again over her little blonde head, her fingers would grip tighter over the rusty rollers and her brown eyes light up in wonder.
At the soldier’s spurs, from the other side of the world.
.
Thankyou Deb.
16 Comments
Pony Girl
Thats really great! I just got goosebumps. How neat to have something that is part of history…a story they hold that we will never know.
Where are you going to keep or display them?
Gem
Oh, how absolutely cool is that story. Thanks for sharing that.
Cactus Jack Splash
Wonderful story and what a neat thing to ponder.
Mikey
Super cool. I bet those ARE Civil War spurs. Very very cool!!
Debby
You’re welcome. I love that now, on the other side of the world, people are holding them, and inventing stories to go with them. For forty years it was my turn. Now it’s yours.
Lydia
What a blessing, and how amazing. Thanks for sharing that — it astounds me that our world is so very small….
And Deb, how very generous of you.
A Novel Woman
Wow. WOW.
Now THAT is a story.
Sabra
Goosebumps and welled-up eyes. Gosh, what a fantastic story. What an incredible gift, for you from Debby and from you to us.
Jenni
I knew instantly it was a spur in the mystery photo, but I couldn’t think of a good story to go along with the photo. I don’t think there ever could be a better story than the one you just told. Wow. I got all choked up reading it. And I’m so glad to know there are people like me who pick up things like that pair of rusty spurs and hold onto them because of the mystery, the story, the history they hold.
Andrea
Wow, that is really a lot better than any of the stories we came up with!! How really neat to have those spurs. What a great gift, and what a teriffic find from Debby!!
Reddunappy
Great story and wonderful sharing from Debbie!
Pencil Writer
Truth is always more interesting than fiction. NOW I understand Debby’s disqualification . . . when one knows the “rest of the story” things do become a little clearer. Great gift, Debby. Thanks for sharing, BB. Now, we can all imagine that fellow and think of what “the rest of his story might have been.”
Bush Babe
Yes… wanted to explain Deb’s disqualification, but thought this post would take care of that better than anything.
I adore these spurs – am thinking of using a box frame to put them into but not decided fully. They are without doubt one of the best gifts I have ever recieved.
Thanks for sharing my joy.
🙂
BB
Scotty
Great post.
And Debby wonders why we all like her so much…
Sheesh.
Loved it.
Leslie
Oh that’s gorgeous. When I saw the first spur the other day I wondered what the story was. 🙂
Diane L. Dodd
such an awesome story!