The Keepsake Box

While searching through an old keepsake box for pictures of my teen years, I discovered something I thought I had lost. In the bottom of the box, underneath an empty potato chip bag from a Herman Hermit’s concert in the mid-’60s, was a poem. It was given as a gift many years ago by my 9th grade English teacher.

Gently lifting the folded piece of paper, I recalled the impact it had on me as a young girl. Even though it remained tucked away through the many phases of my life, the words of the poem are as clear in my mind today as it was the day the author read it to our class.

The poem was typed on a manual typewriter, then printed using a mimeograph machine. The ink has long ago faded and the paper that was once a bright white has now turned to the color of soft candlelight. The page is wrinkled with time and the top corner is torn.

Sitting on the floor, I tenderly unfolded the paper and began to read the words, line by line. As tears ran down my face, I understood the meaning of the poem so much more than I did as a young girl. Through the words of the poem, I see the heart of the author, his love for his students and life itself. But now, as I read it later in my years, I understand he was facing a change in life, and it meant leaving behind a part of himself. He wrote this poem as a gift to us, his students, but the gift was not the words on the paper as I thought so many years ago. It was much more. It was his heart, given day after day, moment by moment. I am sure there were days it was easier to give than others. As I looked at the faded words on the page, I realize that the man who faithfully taught ninth grade English, gave more to me than just a love for literature and writing. He gave his heart.

There is a part of the poem that touched my heart many years ago, but I didn’t fully understand the depth of his words until now.

“The world looks bright today from out my room,

But soon it will be empty as the darkest tomb,

‘Tis sad that I shall never retrace these steps again,

Nor share the laughs, smiles, heartaches, and grins.

Yes, memories are like footprints on the sands of time,

They may be erased but our lives to them we bind,

Memories! Memories! Memories! How my life to them cling,

And my heart beats loud until my soul doth sing.

The desk is silent now, the room is quiet, except for soft sunlight,

The moon comes up at dark and kisses the empty room by night,

But gone from the room is all noises of human sound,

As this teacher’s footfalls no longer rebound.”

Thank you to Mr. Gerald C. Freeman, the 9th Grade English Teacher at Greenwood Jr. High in 1966, the author of this poem he so lovingly named, “Memories.” I wonder if he ever knew what an impact he made on so many young lives?

Mr. Freeman was one of the giants in my education journey, especially inspiring me to become a writer. If I could step back in time and once again walk into his classrom, I  would thank him for this heartfelt poem, but more than that, I would thank him for loving and teaching his students about life, and through example, showing us that giving your all to something makes a difference.

With the help of my Jr. High school friends, we were able to get in touch with Mr. Freeman’s wife. Sadly, we learned that he passed away in 2008.

After speaking with Mrs. Freeman, I learned much about Mr. Freeman, his family and their years in ministry and missions. He was a great man who lived a life on purpose. He completed his journey and left a legacy that will never be forgotten. He was an inspiration to all who knew him.

Mr. and Mrs. Freeman’s daughter, Joy, was killed in an auto accident in 2013 at the age of 17. She, much like her parents, had a heart for missions and to serve the people of Costa Rica was her desire. Please go LIKE their ministry page, “The Hands of Joy,” that provides and enables missionaries to Costa Rica.  There are several ways you can be a part of this ministry and help continue the love of missions that is the heart of the Freeman family. “GIVE JOY TO GET JOY! A ministry of Costa Rica Missions”

Pause and Reflect

• Who are the “giants” God has placed in your life, the people whose faithfulness shaped who you are today?
• In what ways are you currently giving your heart, not just your effort, to the people and purposes God has entrusted to you?
• What kind of legacy are you building through your daily choices, words, and acts of love?

Where Do We Go From Here

Understanding how deeply a life lived on purpose can affect others, let’s live more intentionally, remembering:

• Faithfulness in small places matters.
• Love expressed consistently leaves lasting marks.
• Even when seasons change and roles end, what we have poured into others continues to grow.

Let’s move forward by choosing to invest in the lives of others rather than to simply exist.
While we still can, take time to thank those who shaped us.
Serve with sincerity, knowing someone is learning from our example.
Trust that God uses even our most simple offerings of time and treasures to build His Kingdom.

Most importantly, we remember that finishing well is not about recognition but it is about obedience, purpose, and love.

Let’s Pray

Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the people You have placed in our lives who have given their hearts so freely. Help us to honor their legacy by living with purpose and faithfulness. Teach us to love deeply, serve willingly, and give generously of ourselves each day. May the footprints we leave point others toward You. Strengthen us to finish our course with grace and courage. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Before you move on, take a moment to listen to the song “Thank You” by Ray Boltz. Its message is a gentle reminder that the smallest acts of faithfulness and love can reach farther than we ever imagine. As you listen, allow the words and music to settle into your heart. Ask the Lord to show you how your life is touching others and how He desires to use you in ways you may not yet see. Take time to reflect, give thanks and hear His voice.