Searching for rugs, large or small, never seems to be a simple task for me. I feel like I could more easily commit to buying a new car than a new rug. (I realize this probably isn’t something I should admit so freely…) After searching for weeks, I couldn’t find a small rug for my kitchen. I wanted something with bold color and a low pile, but wasn’t willing to delve into savings to purchase the one I really liked. After finding several rugs in budget that were just “ok”, I gave up the hunt.
It turns out that the “perfect new rug” wasn’t new at all.
A few months ago, a package came in the mail from my aunt. It was full of textiles and nic naks that belonged to my grandma. My sweet “Mawmaw” passed away this fall leaving behind a wealth of memories and indelible impressions on anyone who knew her, especially her grand kids. Her stories were as colorful as her personality.
She could laugh, yell, and cry while reliving an event from her past. Being a missionary who left Texas with my grandfather in her twenties, most of her life was lived overseas. We hung on every word of her tales, realizing only now what a legacy she left us. She had her quirks too…Sometimes Christmas gifts included potted plants or a set of sheets-not that exciting for an 11 year old. Her beautifully decorated cottage filled with treasures from India, Hong Kong, and Maylasia looked like something from a magazine, but it always smelled of moth balls.
When I unpacked the box and pulled out this rug, I immediately started to tear up. This little rug had been in her kitchen for as long as I can remember. It was tattered and showed its age, yet the beautiful tapestry of colors would still brighten any room. I learned how to make chicken and dumplings while standing on this rug . More times than I can count, I watched her make biscuits and gravy in her cast-iron skillet standing barefoot on that rug, singing old hymns, and adding more salt than doctors these days would say is fitting. As it lays in my kitchen now, I remember all the meals we made and lessons I learned…and there the whole time was this ratty, old, gorgeous rug. The perfect “new” rug.
Do you have an “heirloom” piece in your house? I’d love to hear about it.