Don's Tuesday Column

         THE WAY I SEE IT   by Don Polson  Red Bluff Daily News   12/25/2018

      Lost things and found spirit

A song from “Mary Poppins Returns” goes:

Do you ever lie awake at night just between the dark and the morning light?

Searching for the things you used to know, looking for the place where the lost things go.

Do you ever dream or reminisce, wondering where to find what you truly miss?

Well maybe all those things that you love so, are waiting in the place where the lost things go.

Memories you've shed, gone for good you've feared, they're all around you still though they've disappeared.

Nothing's really left or lost without a trace, nothing's gone forever, only out of place.

So maybe now the dish and my best spoon are playing hide and seek just behind the moon, waiting there until it's time to show.

Spring is like that now, far beneath the snow, hiding in the place where the lost things go.

Time to close your eyes, so sleep can come around, for when you dream you'll find all that's lost is found.

Maybe on the moon or maybe somewhere new, maybe all you're missing lives inside of you.

So when you need her touch and loving gaze, ‘gone but not forgotten’ is the perfect phrase.

Smiling from a star that she makes glow, trust she's always there, watching as you grow;

Find her in the place where the lost things go.

When I first heard that in musical form from the movie, it tugged at my heart and took me to a bit of sentiment and nostalgia, which seems entirely in keeping with the Spirit of Christmas. It’s kind of a self-fulfilling process, trying to see how far back go your memories of things lost-but-not-quite-forgotten. It’s a very personal exercise; the entirety of what any of us have lost over a lifetime differs and can pale compared to someone else’s woes and losses; and yet the lesson in the end remains the same as I’ll try to explain.

There are homes we’ve lived in from childhood, together with fond memories. Easily missed is the sense of innocence, wonder and mystery—maybe we really did cavort with sprites, angels and leprechauns. When the portion of our young minds and hearts (eventually filled with life’s experiences and lessons), is but a tiny fraction of what will eventually be overflowing with a life lived and memories retained—that’s the formula for a fired up young imagination, fantasies and limitless possibilities.

There were little friends and big teachers; little piles of dirt with roads and toy vehicles, and big playgrounds inviting wee ones to run to our heart’s content; little Sunday School classes and big churches; little moments with the big hearts of larger-than-life Mom and Dad. Don’t forget little gift boxes and big Christmas trees. Some of us moved and left behind hiding places in one home, only to find secret nooks in a new home; we left behind friends and favorite bicycle paths hoping to find new friends and places to go.

Such are the things left “where the lost things go” together with, for some unfortunate ones among us, experiences best forgotten at the hands of unthinking adults, even those with unacknowledged-but-deep injuries of their own. Some malevolent individuals inflict harm that I believe brings the Lord’s angels to minister and heal young minds, hearts and bodies. Forgiveness and forgetfulness do not always abide.

Even through our adult lives, joyful things come and go: the fulfillment and triumph of applied talents and jobs well done; skills are developed and then set aside and forgotten. Social activities bring camaraderie and fellowship but can be left behind as friends move or pass on; joints or health can decline. Recreational, but physically challenging, sports from running to camping, hunting, boating, winter activities and even yard work, can become burdens and, eventually, “lost things.”

I’m reminded of the panel of paintings showing the stages of life, from a babe in the arms of a mother while a father watches and protects; to a child wandering through gardens and forests surrounded by angelic light-beings guarding the innocent. Then storms and raging waters pummel the adult now on his own to find his way in a now-battered boat with hopes and prayers holding it together; the overseeing angels now can only offer guidance for navigating the rough waters.

The final panel, as my memory recalls, shows an old, gray-bearded and bent-over man, looking over calmer waters from a boat inadequate to sustain itself against more rough waves; his forlorn-but-hopeful visage gazes upward as if seeing some of the same angels that have been there from his birth, now hidden from his temporal awareness. The angels do, however, point their staffs and arms toward the brightening clouds and opening blue skies lined with choirs and throngs of beings eager to welcome another soul to heaven when the ultimately-fragile body finally expires.

For those of us who believe in the Spirit of Christmas, the greatest gift of all—the gift that makes all of the “lost things” ultimately fade in importance—is the gift of the baby Jesus, the Word Incarnate in flesh. That historical birth represents the promise of God to offer salvation to those who believe and pray for acceptance into God’s Heavenly Kingdom through Grace and forgiveness of our human frailties and corrupted hearts and souls. Let us all cherish the place “where the lost things go,” fill our hearts with the love and wisdom “that passes all understanding,” and not dwell in regret and sadness while the Gift of Salvation through the Baby Jesus beckons us onward and upward.