This little dutch girl planter remained a constant in my childhood. At one time, she held a prominent spot in our home. I can't remember being told from where she came; however, I do know she is old. Not being an antique glassware collector , I don't know the name of the pottery, but the little piece no doubt has a history, if no where else but in my parents' household. A the years passed, the dutch girl gradually moved from prominence to ignominy. She was moved to darkened nooks on furniture, cluttered dishware cabinets, and eventually banned to underneath the kitchen sink, the abyss of obscurity. After the death of my parents, my siblings and I were parceling family possessions. I spied her amidst the heap of mementos, just an insignificant piece of pottery with no value other than sentiment. I realized she represented a truth, however. The insignificant things in life, those things that are so constant we take them for granted, are often our true wealth. That beautiful sunset, the face of a dear friend, and the breath I breath are of untold worth. Thank you, little dutch girl, for your lesson. You deserve to be perserved on canvas.
