The Little Glass Jar

I got to thinking the other day after my little grandson came over for a visit.

My daughter sat him in his highchair and said it was time to eat. Without even realizing it, I found myself waiting for a familiar sound.

Pop.

You know the one.

That little pop when you'd twist the lid off one of those tiny glass jars of baby food.

Instead, she reached into the diaper bag, pulled out a squeeze pouch, twisted the cap, and handed it to him. He happily squeezed applesauce right into his mouth.

I couldn't help but smile.

Not because it was wrong.

It was just different.

Now I'll tell you one thing those old glass jars could do. If a little one got hold of one and slung it off the highchair while you turned your head for two seconds, you were liable to be picking up glass until next Tuesday. Maybe these new pouches have us beat on that one.

A little while later she reached back into the diaper bag for a snack. I caught myself expecting a sandwich bag with a handful of dry cereal or a few graham crackers broken into pieces. That seemed to be the snack every young parent carried around when our kids were little.

Watching my grandson eat brought back another memory.

Those little baby food jars hardly ever stayed empty. Before long they'd be holding buttons, nails, screws, fishing hooks, coins, or whatever little odds and ends needed a home. Folks back then didn't throw away much if it could still be useful.

As I sat there, it dawned on me that one day my grandson will probably be sitting where I am. He'll watch one of his own grandchildren eating something that hasn't even been invented yet. He'll probably smile and remember those little squeeze pouches the same way I remembered those glass jars.

That's when I realized something.

I wasn't really missing the baby food jars.

I was missing the years.

Funny how memories work. They don't come back because we're looking for them. They show up in the middle of an ordinary afternoon, disguised as a familiar sound or a little grandchild sitting in a highchair.

Maybe that's one of God's greatest gifts.

He gives us children to fill our lives with memories...

...and grandchildren to quietly bring those memories back when we least expect them.

Sometimes all it takes is one little pop to remind us just how blessed we've been.