Thirty Minutes

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What would you take with you if you had but thirty minutes to gather it all up and forever leave the rest behind? First and most certainly, I would take with me my children. But after that, who can say?

I think to grab my scrapbooks and a bag of clothes. I reach for some blankets made by my mother. There are family heirloom furniture pieces I could tie to the top of my car, but then where would I put the piano mom used to play all the time? There is no room. I want to snatch up all the children's playthings and throw them in a box, really quick, with the basket of letters and photographs from my family history work. Oh! But what about those dirty dishes in the sink? I must wash those up and get to that laundry before the clock runs out. I wouldn't want it rumored I could not keep house. I dare not leave behind my scriptures, books, and sewing machine nor the keepsakes on the walls. And I shan't forget my makeup bag and my favorite purple shoes. Do you remember if I already packed the baby blankets and some snacks? I want to take it all with me, but there is no time for that.

Yet, with all this said, I really do take every important thing with me. I have them within my cherished memories. No tangible item could matter more than what a heart can hold. Thirty minutes could never be enough if I had to load them in a car.

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