“Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there. It doesn’t matter what you do, he says, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that’s like you after you take your hands away. The difference between the man who just cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the touching, he said. The lawn-cutter might just as well not have been there at all; the gardener will be there a lifetime.” -Ray Bradbury
I am spending Easter Sunday at my parent's house and noticing things that my loved ones left behind like the red apple cookie jar that now sits on my mom's counter. My grandma kept it in her kitchen where I begged for just one more store-bought cookie and now my daughter does the same. My brother told my girl about how he used to love the color purple. There was just one purple bowl at my grandma's house and he would always try to get it. The bowls at my grandma's house where actually old margarine tubs that she reused. Isn't is something to have such fond memories about store-bought cookies and a recycled margarine tub? My grandma touched and changed those things and her soul is in our kitchen this Sunday morning.