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Souvenirs Tell Stories — Part 7: The Rocking Chair
As the Saratoga Race Course opens again today in upstate New York, I recall a souvenir that came indirectly into our home from that racetrack. On the surface, this rocking chair looks much like many other rocking chairs that sit in living rooms or bedrooms all across America. However, this particular rocker holds an especially memorable place in our family lore because of the unlikely event that led to its purchase.
During the summer of 1985, my wife, Barbara, and I were celebrating our first anniversary and also expecting our first child. I was employed full-time as an English teacher at a small, Catholic high school, I was also studying part-time for my master’s degree at a local college, and Barbara was selling encyclopedias on a commission basis. As we prepared for our baby’s birth, Barbara happened to mention her desire to have a rocking chair, so she could feed the baby there and later rock him or her to sleep.
“I’m not sure we can afford that right now,” I said honestly, “but I will look into it.” And I did. I discovered that a nice, sturdy rocker, one that was not too fancy, would cost about $100, a bit of a stretch for our budget. I didn’t admit that truth to Barbara right away, though, because I am an optimist at heart, and I was hopeful that God might somehow provide the money.
