What Really Matters, According to Me

by my sister Melinda Marie Antuna retold humbly and with gratitude by me: Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a king who was young and powerful. Though he was a peace loving man, he had no choice but to war with those who would threaten his kingdom, and when war came to his land, he vanquished every foe, so that, in time, there were none who dared to threaten the peace of his people. He was strong and noble; kind and fair. He was wealthy beyond description, and he was very handsome to behold. “King Thunderbolt” he was called, because whenever he approached to survey a given village or hamlet, the clamber and tumult created by the young women of the place was thunderous. You see, the young king was the most desirable bachelor in all the land; in all the world, to hear the young women speak of it. Every young maiden in the kingdom desired to be his chosen wife. And it came to pass that King Thunderbolt determined the time had come he should choose a wife. He rode upon his...

Last night I held a keepsake in my hands; I looked at it, opened it, considered what it meant to me... Until this morning, I owned a little box with a hinged, locking lid. Inside the box are many small, colorful, polished stones...and one translucent, red marble. I've had it for years. I purchased two somewhat similar 'trunks' along with stones and marbles, along with some other pretty little things, when I bought my first and only house in 2003...which house I no longer own. I wanted to make the house look pretty. I wanted it to feel happy and good when people entered therein. Though I lost the house, I kept some of the little pretty things to remind me of what I once had, and how it was beautiful, and how I used to think it was mine... It really wasn't mine. I was passing through. None of this belongs to any of us. We are only temporary stewards of the things we think we own. Even if only parted by death, we will be parted from our things in time. The things I've ...