Bus Stop Treasure Box

A liminal flicker

Artistry by Michelle Beck. Find the original creation here.

I hold on to trinkets. Gifts, mostly. Little things I never needed, have no use for, and feel sentimentally attached to.

A forthcoming house move had me ruthlessly pairing down keepsakes. I piled small belongings that made my heart sparkle in a shoe-sized box.

Sterling silver necklaces with cubic zirconia-lined charms. Earth-toned beaded bracelets. Oxidized ornate finger rings. Stickers of Imsouane’s surf break by a Moroccan artist. A bright yellow plastic phone case with an obnoxiously large, rubber, half-peeled banana that served as a handhold.

I had a gloomy sense the random items would go straight to the landfill if I dropped them at Goodwill.

At the bus stop, two doors down, I often see college kids waiting for their ride, thumbs scrolling phones. If I were the one waiting, I’d rather sift through an unexpected treasure box than doom on a screen.

With a little sticky on the side that read, “Take what makes your heart sing,” I set the box on the bench one early weekend morning. I felt giddy imagining delight at being the first to find it, then an awareness others may not share this emotion and I’d be donating the contents anyway.

A quick check that afternoon brought elation at seeing the box half empty. Alongside it, a dismembered phone case. Someone hungered for the banana.

Heading out by car the following day, I glanced in passing and noticed a doggie bag in the box. Not the kind with leftovers inside.

My heart felt heavy. Why do some feel the need to jab at joy?

It didn’t take long for me to find that for every person who shits on fancy, there’s another who will wipe it away to appreciate the beauty. For my next drive by I could see the bright green bag poking out of the bus stop trash bin.

Remaining treasures back in the light, to shine and enchant once again.

> A liminal flicker: People will react. And as some key women in my life like to say, “Let them.” Do what makes your heart happy. That—in the end—is what matters.