The Pickle Jar...

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Friday, December 26, 2008

The Pickle Jar...

The Pickle Jar Author UnknownThe

years passed. I finished college and took a job in another town.

Once,while visiting my parents, I used the phone in their bedroom.

Sadly, I noticed that the pickle jar was gone. It had served its

purpose and now had been removed.A

lump rose in my throat as I stared at the spot beside the dresser where

the jar had always stood. My dad was a man of few words; he never

lectured me on the values of determination, perseverance, and faith.The

pickle jar had taught me all those virtues far more effectively than

the most eloquent of words could have. How fondly I remembered that old

jar and its place in my life. When

I married, I told my wife of the significant part that old pickle

jar had played in my life as a boy. In my mind, it defined, more than

anything else, how much my dad had loved me.The

first Christmas after our daughter was born we spent the

holiday with my parents. After dinner, Mom and Dad sat next to each

other on the sofa, taking turns cuddling their first grandchild.

began to whimper softly, and took her from Dad's

arms."She probably needs to be changed." she said carrying the baby

into my parents' bedroom to diaper her. When came back into the

living room, there was a noticeable mist in her eyes.She

handed back to Dad before taking my hand and leading me into

the back bedroom. "Look!" she said softly, her eyes directing me to a

spot on the floor beside the dresser.To

my amazement, there, as if it had never been removed, stood the old

pickle jar, the bottom already covered with coins. I walked over to the

pickle jar, dug down into my pocket, and pulled out a small handful of

coins. With a gamut of emotions choking me, I dropped the coins into

the jar. I looked up to see Dad, carrying , had slipped quietly

into the room. Our eyes locked, and I knew he was feeling the same

emotions I felt. Neither one of us could speak. We

had no need for that. The pickle jar was back in its old spot now with

a renewed purpose. I could see the joy in my Dad's eyes as he gently

held his granddaughter in his arms. The old pickle jar was new again. Aseem KaisthaIt's your attitude and not your aptitude that determines your altitude.