I have a special little thrift store that I think of as my special place. It is not one of those stores that if you saw it from the street you would stop and want to go in.  It is in an old mini mall where most the stores have been there for probably 20 plus years. The signs look dirty, the paint of most the stores are worn and chipped….

Inside the thrift store there is a musty smell and it is always humid hot. It is always packed with shopping carts left anywhere full of donations that have not yet been priced and put away.

The ladies at the store know me. They know the children’s book area is the first place I go.

Piles and piles of children books always waiting for me. Stacked on top of each other I dig through the piles. Old books that I remember from my childhood. Not the usual books you find in a book store, some of these books can’t be bought anymore, but books that grandparents read to there kids. Books that have worn pages with illustrations that are filled with colors

I search through these books and I wonder where they have lived and who they belonged to. I find personal notes in many of the books and I often feel sad that someone gave the book away.  I stack the books in my cart thinking of who I am going to give them to.

Before I leave my little store, I always walk around to see what else I can find. Not to buy, but to wonder about the adventure each items must have had.

As I was leaving from my last visit. There was a toy house……one that was exactly the same as the one my brother and I played with 50 years ago!

I was going to buy it for a fun memory but decided not to, as it was not the actual toy I played with.  My visits to my little thrift store are an escape for me to imagine that these “things” brought moments of joy to someone. I can come here and create a world through unknown faces and endless treasures.

But I will always remember… Our life.. Is about people not things.

Goodbye for now little thift store