It’s one of the few things that survived the fire– my grandmother’s birdseye maple rolling pin. Two feet long, it actually glows with the patina of countless uses. The grooves and a knob on either end are thoughtful, comfortable places where I know she too rested her little fingers. I have no idea how old or big it’s birth tree was –the grain is vertical on this treasure –but I do know it was milled over a 100 years ago. I can only imagine the pies she made.
I never even knew it existed until after my mother died. Alice, mom’s best friend-army-nurse-tent-mate been given the pin by my grandfather. She kept it, rolled with it for many years and passed it to me when she became too old to use it. One day it will go to my oldest daughter who carries Mary’s name. It’s just a chunk of wood, but it’s a true family heirloom, unlike a lot of expensive stuff people hold onto and never use, or buy in excess, or think they need. Move over Mastercard, this spotty well worn stick is the real definition of priceless.