Grandma Neeley's crayon drawer

I don't know that my Grandma Neeley knew how much I loved being at her house when I was young.  We spent many summers traveling from Arizona to SLC to visit her.  She had a three story home that was purchased when my Grandpa was alive.  They raised most of their eight children there.  Then, as they each grew, cousins came along.  There was a happiness explosion each summer at Grandma's. 

Grandma Neeley had unlimited wonderful qualities.  But it's the big drawer in the kitchen, under the long bay window,  that overlooked her fruit tree filled back yard,  that I will never forget.  This drawer was packed to the brim with Crayola crayons.  It quenched my creative appetite to behold such mounds of delight.  If the hoped for color wasn't visible from the top, you could run your hands and fingers through to the bottom, like jewels in a treasure chest.  I colored fort hours there, subconsciously listening to the happiness in the next rooms.

I was privileged to watch Audrey and Henry today.  I think they could play all day, right through naps and eating.  They were content.  Audrey happily taste tested everything while she moved along the toy bins, standing against them for balance.  And Henry concentrated on potato head, magnetic shapes, and building a space center with plastic building pieces.  As I held sleeping Audrey, Henry whispered his play by play to me as he built and rebuilt.  I looked at their sweet concentrating faces and it took me right back to Grandma Neeley's.  That's how I felt at her crayon drawer.  Happy and content.  

I don't know if she knew it then, but I silently thanked her for it today.  I was filled with gratitude for the peaceful coloring memories., and the love I felt in her home.  Because of her, I could recognize the same peace in my little grand children's eyes.  I hope what I have to offer my grandchildren will always compare to the joy of Grandma Neeley's loaded crayon drawer.