The Trunk in the Attic ...

The Trunk in the Attic …

I was sitting there in my dusty corner by the attic window, as I have for so many long years, when I heard an unusual noise coming from beyond the boxes of old blankets. It wasn’t the sound of the mice; I knew them all by their different scurrying noises. It wasn’t coming from the crickets; they were bedded down for the winter. I didn’t think it could be the spiders; they were usually very quiet, but you never quite knew about spiders. Anyway, as I sat there pondering the possible sources for this noise, there it was again! It was a sort of wet, snuffling sound. I hadn’t heard anything like that for, oh… for a long, long time.

I tried to focus and listen more carefully in the direction of the sound. It is rather difficult, considering my age and condition, but I gave it my best attempt, nonetheless. Rarely did anything new happen around me, which made me really want to find out the origin of this peculiar noise. Oh! There it is again! And then there was a whooshing sound like a sigh. I think perhaps it WAS a sigh. Perhaps … could it be … a person from down below who has come up to my attic domain?

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” I heard from the other side of the boxes. “I am such a stupid, stupid klutz!” It sounded very much like a young female human voice. “Why did my foot have to slip THEN!” the voice continued muttering. Then the words stopped and the wet, snuffling noise resumed.

I know I am not supposed to speak to humans because they don’t understand how some things can take on a kind of life of their own, but this one seemed so distressed that I felt that I must. I cleared my throat and made a sort of rumbling sound, rather like large rocks rolling across wooden floor boards. Then I waited to see if that had gotten a response. Nothing. I rumbled a bit more. The snuffling sound stopped and I heard stirring from the other side of the boxes. I tried more rumbling. Then I heard soft, shuffling footsteps coming around the side of the stack of boxes. A timid sounding voice said, “Hello? Is someone over there?”

Success! She had noticed! Now I could try to speak with her but I didn’t want to scare her in the process. I cleared my throat to say hello, but all that came out was the rumbling sound again. Hmmm….. Well, that was okay because the young human was now coming around the boxes and looking straight toward me! After another moment or two, I tried again to say hello, but I just couldn’t get the words to come out. Ahhh…. I guess that’s why I’m not supposed to talk to humans. Because I can’t talk! But she stood there looking at me as though she had heard something.

I rumbled again and she looked directly at me. She could hear me, in a way. I could give her thoughts and images and in exchange, I could hear her thoughts and see images from her. She was looking at me and wondering, "What could be inside this dusty old trunk up here in the corner of the attic." Well, that is what I am after all, a trunk. Perhaps I looked a bit dirty now, but I used to be a fine oaken steamer trunk with lovely brass bands and hinges. I had done quite a bit of traveling in my youth and in my later days, I was used to keep precious trinkets and memories through the passing years. But now, I was rather scuffed and dented looking and thoroughly covered in dust.

From her thoughts, I gleaned that she was visiting the home of her great-aunt Mildred for some kind of family reunion. While in the large dining room, she had slipped and fallen ungracefully in front of a group of assorted cousins and they had laughed at her and made fun of her lack of poise. Trying not to cry, she had mumbled some kind of insult back at them and had hurried away through the house looking for a safe place to wallow in her misery. She had found the door to the attic inside the closet of one of the guest bedrooms and had fled to safety here with me. Ah, youth. The anxieties and fears are the same from generation to generation. She will learn.

In an effort to help her overcome her self-pity, I began giving her images of what was contained within my sturdy oak walls. She felt it only as wisps of her imagination as she wondered what family treasures could be inside the old trunk. As I gave her these glimpses of the past, I began humming to myself. During my long waits between visitors, I had composed a little song about my most treasured things and I often sang it to myself to pass the time. As I hummed, I realized that the young human was singing …. and she was singing my song!

She opened the hasp, lifted my lid and looked inside at my collection of family trinkets and mementos. As she admired each item, I gave her a quick glimpse of what each item was, who it had belonged to and how it had come to be saved as a treasure to be kept and remembered. She and I had a lovely, long afternoon traveling through memories of yesteryear. As the light in the attic began to fade, she realized how much time had slipped by. She repacked each item with care, placing them back into the body of my trunk, and then reluctantly closed my lid. She thought to herself (and to me) that she would come back up to the attic every time she visited her great-aunt so she could admire and remember the history of her family.

Since that day, she has come back from time to time to visit me and my treasures. Perhaps someday soon, she will bring some treasures of her own for me to keep.



"My Most Treasured Things …"
(Melody of “My Favorite Things” from The Sound of Music)


Great-Grandma’s Bible and Grand-Dad’s war medals
Embroidered handkerchiefs, dried flower petals
Brown faded love-letters tied up with strings
These are a few of my most treasured things.

Old high school trophies, a wedding cake topper
Booties and rattles, kept in a box, proper
Snippets of baby curls tied up with strings
These are a few of my most treasured things.

When you’re lonely
And unhappy
When you’re feeling sad
Just come up and look through my most treasured things
And then you won’t feel so bad.

Pictures of cousins from each generation
Postcards and trinkets from every vacation
Comics and baseball cards tied up with strings
These are a few of my most treasured things.

Big frilly prom dresses, old high school year books
“Hey look there’s dad; he was known for his good looks”
Wonderful memories each item brings
These are a few of my most treasured things.

When you’re lonely
And unhappy
When you’re feeling sad
Just come up and look through my most treasured things
And then you won’t feel so bad.