by Sarah Cleaves

Created on: November 22, 2010

‘What a lot of junk’ sighed Ruth as she looked over the bags and boxes that were crammed full of so many remnants of her life. Things she just hadn’t been able to bring herself to part with, no matter how useless they may be. Some of these things, long lost in the musty gloom of the garden shed where she now stood, had been with her for over forty years. So long that they seemed like old friends. Yet here they were, crammed into storage where if the recent bad weather hadn’t brought with it disaster, they would have remained forgotten for some years yet.

‘Wow Nan,’ gasped Ruth’s granddaughter Jen as she peered over Ruth’s shoulder and pulled her smooth blond hair back into a ponytail. ‘There’s so much stuff in here.’

Ruth smiled and nodded. She loved any excuse to spend time with her granddaughter. She was so beautiful with a wide and honest smile and she reminded Ruth of herself when she was a young woman. Jen’s mother Alice, Ruth’s only child, had moved away the year before with Jen’s younger brother Mark. Jen had a job at the local school and was all the family Ruth had left around the small village where she lived. Over the years they’d become extremely close.

‘Thank goodness I’ve got you to help,’ said Ruth.  

‘You know me, anything for a good cause. I just love fundraisers.’

‘Well I’m afraid it’s mostly just old junk in here. Only got sentimental value. But if there’s anything here we can use for jumble, it’ll help.’

Ruth had planned a jumble sale at the local village hall and was hoping to raise enough money to help the retirement home in the village recover from the recent flooding. They hadn’t been prepared for the torrential weather they’d had lately. The banks of the stream that ran alongside the home had over flown and the water had seeped into the ground floor causing all kinds of damage. Since she’d retired several years earlier Ruth had spent a great deal of time volunteering in the home. She had good friends who were residents there, and she knew how important it was. If she’d had the money herself she would have happily given it, but all she had was this pile of old junk stored in the garden shed.

‘I’m not sure where to start,’ said Jen.

‘Anywhere will do love, it’s all much the same.’

They each reached out for the nearest

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