“May the God of hope fill you with joy and peace as you trust in Him.” ~ Romans 15:13
In a quiet corner, where forgotten memories slept in dusty
boxes, Brian helped his Dad clear out Grampa’s basement. Stored high on a rusted
shelf sat a box that simply read,
“Plasticville.”
With his Dad’s help,
they lowered the huge box and placed it on a nearby workbench. Tony’s eyes
revealed a somber melancholy that touched Brian’s heart. He’d always seen his
Dad as a strong man larger than life, a father who rarely showed emotion. This
day exposed his Dad’s sensitive, vulnerable side.
Tony opened the box that
contained dozens of smaller bundles carefully wrapped in yellowing newspaper
from decades past. Each contained plastic parts to miniature buildings. Tony carefully
unwrapped the first bundle – pieces of a basic tan house with a red roof and
red shutters.
“In the beginning, we
could only afford to add one building each year to our Plasticville village - a
church, gas station, school, fire station, and more,” Tony began. “The parts
came in brightly colored boxes. No glue needed; you had to assemble them by
snapping pieces together.”
As Brian and his Dad assembled a dozen or more of the old homes and stores, stories began to unfold, weaving a narrative of their Plasticville community. “My Mom meticulously painted each structure with her own splash of personality,” Tony reflected. "Each building told a unique story."
He remembered a quaint little
bakery, imagining the aroma of freshly baked bread wafting out. Tony even
pictured a cheerful baker named "Crumbly," kneading the dough.
“Outside the church, a
manger held the baby Jesus. We’d replay the story of His birth every year, painting
the harsh reality of His humble beginning as a baby laid to sleep in a feeding
trough.”
“The village barbershop
had a jolly barber named "Snips" giving haircuts and sharing local gossip
with customers. Dad built a tiny bench where an imaginary musician played holiday
tunes for the townsfolk on his make-believe guitar.”
“As I grew, so did the collection. Plasticville became more
than just a toy,” Tony continued. “It was a vibrant community where we explored
the joys and challenges of everyday life. Each day, we created new scenarios for
the characters, often adding sound effects that brought them to life.”
“Dad put this away
after Mom died,” Tony said with quiet sadness in his eyes. “That’s the last
time I ever looked at any of these little houses and stores; it's been idle for
fifty years. It's time to bring the little village back to life.”
Outside the snow covered the basement windows. Tony decided
that instead of putting up the display annually as a Christmas tradition, he’d
keep it up year-round for his grandchildren to create new stories and for
adults to feel like kids again.
