The thief who robbed my house on Dec. 31 took more than some technology, purses, and jewelry.
He (or she) went into my closet and stole my hope chest. The lid of that old, homemade chest is snug with age, so he probably thought it was locked. He probably thought he had hit the jackpot.
Inside this chest, as he probably has now discovered, are my baby photos.
Inside are our wedding vows and the cards we received when we were married and when we had our children.
Inside is the journal I kept when my dad was dying of cancer, and the journals and calendars documenting the growth of my two children, and all the funny little things theyâ€™ve said and done along the way.
Inside are love letters, and letters to my children from my dad, for when the time is right.
I am terrified that Iâ€™ve lost these memories and keepsakes forever.
The thief did not steal my belief in the good of people.
I have hope that a good samaritan will find the chest, marked with â€œW.C. WYKES,â€ my great uncleâ€™s name, alongside a road somewhere.
I have hope that my dadâ€™s watch will turn up, because the local pawn shop owners told me that nobody would buy an inscribed watch.
I have actually dreamt that the chest miraculously showed up on my driveway.
Jennifer Koehler, Langley