Sitting abandoned on the shelf at the thrift store, the object of my attention looked as battered and beaten down as Lord Voldemort's horcruxed soul.
It's alright, I told myself. I'll drill a hole in the bottom, fill it with dirt and use it as a planter. All those nicks and scratches will disappear behind a riotous display of rich, green leaves.
But on the ride home, this wooden bowl began to speak to me.
Look at my contours, she said. You don't see these kind of curves every day.
Check out my undulating grain patterns. To die for.
And you're right. I would make a lovely planter. But I could be so much more.
As I turned the bowl over in my hands, listening to her voice and imagining the possibilities, I caught a glimpse of a mark on the bottom
Sweden. And undecipherable words that surely must indicate the craftsman.
I'm not a label chaser, but that kind of insignia usually marks an item made with quality and care.
We took a detour to pick up sanding pads and finishing oils.
After ten minutes of sanding and a quick rub-down with mineral oil, all of the scratches, dings and dents had disappeared and my bowl's transformation was complete.
As I proudly displayed my newfound treasure, each of my daughters has asked me, "What are you going to do with it?"
I'm not entirely sure.
But for now, it's more than enough to set my wooden bowl out on the table, where I can see it every day and be reminded now important it is to look beyond the superficial flaws of life to see the hidden beauty that lies underneath.
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