If you’ve ever helped someone move, you’re probably familiar with a handy little tool called a furniture dolly. Ours belonged to my husband’s Grandpa Rex. It is an old scratched up metal thing that has the name “Don” crudely scratched on the handle. (Rex had an endearing habit of writing the name of the giver on any gift that was bestowed to him.)

We’ve given this humble, rather unsightly, gadget a work-out this past year. I’ve grown to love the thing and even nicknamed it the Dolly Llama, for obvious reasons. With it, I can easily move three impossibly heavy boxes with one hand and carry a lamp with the other. Amazing!

While moving my mom into her new home last weekend, my husband leaned on the Dolly Llama, and said, “This thing sure has seen a lot in its lifetime.” Mike isn’t normally one to wax philosophical, especially about something as utilitarian as a furniture dolly, but due to physical and emotional exhaustion, we both got misty eyed.

No telling what Grandpa Rex moved with that old thing. I know after he died, it was used to move Grandma Ruth into assisted living. And then, to move her things out. It moved us from St. Louis to Indianapolis. It moved our daughter in and out of her college dorm and our son’s family into their new home.  No telling who will move what with it in the future.

The furniture dolly is back in our garage for now, next to all of the other junk. I pick up an old hammer, “Really, Mike, why would you keep this, or this rusty saw, or this ancient pickle jar filled with nails?” Looking at the hammer I wonder whose hands have touched the smooth, worn wooden handle.

When you consciously focus on whatsoever is lovely, you naturally see the beauty in magnificent things, but you also bring an awareness to the elegance, and history, of simple objects. A furniture dolly, a hammer, a saw ~ perfect little tools that help make life perfectly lovely.

Think On These Things~ Alicia