This past weekend, I attended an auction. It’s the first one I have been to in years. There were lots of people there. It seemed to me, from the floating conversations, a lot of those attending were buying things with the intention of turning around and reselling them. I guess they do that as a side or retirement supplement. I watched a lovely old table sell for over 5,000 dollars and that’s with it not including the chairs. I knew it was a super cool old table, but I didn’t have a clue it was worth over five thousand dollars cool. Way out of my budget. Even so, it was exciting watching the competition between buyers. Wondering just how high they would be willing to pay for the old table.

There was a vendor selling Frito pies and drinks. It was so good, I went back for a second helping. I wandered around looking at all the items. I ran into familiar faces and had a chance to catch up a bit with friends and neighbors. Time slipped by. I ended up staying to the very end.

I’m so glad I did. I brought home at least three to four hundred canning jars for five dollars. I was able to pick any wood I wanted out of the wood shop for ten dollars. I got a solid handcrafted full size cedar headboard, rails and footboard for three dollars. The cream of the crop also included two solid woodworking tables, a band saw, radial arm saw, drill press and two grinders … all for about two hundred dollars. Talk about gifts. I am so excited to use all the equipment and material in my woodworking.

There was a down side. I felt a sadness watching and participating in this man’s lifetime of accumulations being rummaged through, analyzed, scrutinized and picked through. I felt a loss for his family and privately wondered what it must feel like to watch strangers stepping on the many irises planted around the yard, handling their fathers belongings, purchasing and leaving with them.

The daughter told me that her father’s handmade baby cradle which he made many, many years ago sold for two or three dollars. She said, “It broke my heart.” I felt so bad for her. I don’t know if the cradle accidentally ended up being mixed in with the items for sale or if it was the memories of something with high value to her that was purchased at a low price. Either way, I wished there was a way to comfort her. I wish I had been the one to buy it. I would have passed it back to her.

The best I have to offer … I am highly thankful for the jars and the equipment. I would not have been able to afford them otherwise. I will take good care of them and use them to the best of my ability. I will not forget the family or where they came from. I treasure the items and I honor what they must have meant to their father.