My grandson loves rocks. He loves plain rocks and he loves mystery rocks. I call them mystery rocks, because in their natural state, I can’t see sparkling gems like Trevor can.
We go to Gem Mountain in Montana once a year. You get to buy a bucket or twenty of dirt. Those buckets are not cheap. When you find your gems, you get to keep them. But they are not free. Yet, those same not cheap buckets give us hours of fun time. Everyone digs, even the adults. It’s not often I play in the dirt unless it’s to plant flowers, but digging for fun rocks is—well—fun.
The sapphires we find at Gem Mountain do not resemble what you see sparkling on black velvet by any stretch of the imagination. Most of them are tiny (and I mean TINY) little bubble looking things among the other rocks and dirt. I don’t know how, but as soon as the rocks are sluiced (washed) and dumped on the table, Trevor has three or four of those little opaque bubbles in his film canister before I even see any. He may have some to fire, but mostly they are too small.
When we go digging for treasure on those days, I find it. The treasure isn’t in the gems that are nearly too small to see, but in the excitement of watching a boy in the midst of the hunt. His excitement is catchy, and all of us have a wonderful day (that usually ends up in the candy store in Phillipsburg).
And that is a priceless treasure.
“That their hearts maybe be encouraged, being knit together in love, and attaining to all riches of the full assurance and knowledge … of both the Father and of Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge” Colossians 2: 2,3.
Leave a Reply