It was back when we read secret seven and famous fives, that my grandmother
told us the stories of our family heritage and some old treasure hidden in the
back yard. We knew that most of it was fictional but she told it so
convincingly that we couldn’t help wonder.
As time passed by, we
eventually forgot most of the stories, but we would often tease our younger
cousins and nieces and nephews who were now the audience of her stories. We
laughed and nudged them to go dig for the treasure.
Just about a few days
ago, my cousin came home with a school assignment. She had to grow organic
vegetables. In the coming days she irritated me to the core with her constant attempt
to convince me to help her.
Last Saturday finally I
decided to say good bye to my manicured hands and prepared myself for encounter
with mud. With the help of guard kaka, we got some seeds and bulbs. While my
cousin stood as my assistant on command, I cleared the ground of wild grown
weed and started to shovel the ground. I had forgotten how deep is right deep
for planting and as a precaution I kept digging lower.
Until my shovel made a *clink*
sound like it had hit something hard. Ignoring the sound, I made another
attempt to hear that same clink. I looked at my sister. She had heard it too.
The assignment was forgotten. We kneeled and started removing all the mud with
our hands.
After a while, my hands
touched wood. We speeded the process with excitement. We cleared it with both
our hands and revealed a small box made of wood and iron. With the help of
shovel, we dug it out and cleaned it.
Hiding it from everyone,
we took it straight to our grandmother. She had to be the one to see it. All
her stories were maybe not fictional. There was indeed a treasure in our back
yard. Maybe this was just a beginning.
We waited for her to
finish her prayers and turn to us. We could hardly sit still in excitement.
Seeing us twist and turn and eye each other sheepishly, she turned and gave us
a questioning look.
Grinning, without a
word, we placed the box in front of her.
I had imagined that she’d
be amused, but her expressions seemed to be of shock. “Where did you get it?”
she was excited suddenly.
“Garden, we were trying
to plant some…” we hadn’t finished the sentence, when he interrupted and asked
me to call my mother.
My mother walked in
after a few minutes, shocked to see that box.
“Did they know about it?”
I wondered. I was asked to repeat, how, when, where I found it, and I did.
Suddenly my mom was
hugging me, kissing me and laughing. Thanking God and opening the box. Inside was
no old jewelry but my mother’s wedding necklace.
One of our old house
help was accused of running away with some of our family jewelry. My uncles had
caught him but he ran away, leaving all his stuff behind. Back then, we could
not find the box, and now, accidently I had found it.
I am happy that we found
my mother’s jewelry but upset that it was no old treasure.
Based on Write Tribe's Wednesday prompt - Treasure
Linking it to NaBloPoMo December -
