I always find it interesting what people collect.  One friend collects perfume bottles, another ceramic pigs, another china and tea services.  One mom passed along an antique button collection to her daughter, another handkerchiefs with handmade lace.  My paternal grandmother collected salt and pepper shakers.  One son collected Star Wars memorabilia and comic books.  My daughter collected ladybugs until she had so many she put out the word:  Stop!  I still tend to pick them up with her in mind.  (I have a little beaded coin purse hidden in my closet just waiting…)

What do I collect?  For a long time, I didn’t think I collected anything except boxes. Not cardboard boxes or shoe boxes, mind you, but little boxes (well, not always little) that represent trips and life experiences and are just plan interesting (like the box made of recycled motherboards). I have tiny delicate boxes brought home from China by my brother and sister-in-law and big, ornate metal boxes filled with foreign coins and a wooden box filled with marbles.  Oops.  There are two more collections!  (Rick’s keepsakes from childhood travels and competitive playground games of skill and cunning)

What makes us collect what we do?  I have no idea.  What does the collection say about us?  I’m afraid to guess. 

Here are some other collections I’ve found hidden away:

Seashells – evidence of God’s grace; He gives gorgeous houses to slimy slug-like creatures

Feathers – a vast variety picked up over the years, all colors and sizes, each complex and perfect

Quotes – a dozen notebooks filled – and another stack waiting to be filled – with wise and witty thoughts I’ve read or heard.                                                                    

And here is a blatant example of hoarding:

Books!  –  in the storage room filling shelves that line the walls, one whole wall in the living room, a big bookshelf in our bedroom, more shelves in the office, and boxes in a storage unit. 


I’m curious.  What do you collect?  And do you have any idea why?