If Mom Had a Time Capsule . . .

Mother’s Day weekend has me thinking about three things I would include in a time capsule honoring my mother’s legacy.

Stella “June” Gansberg

A Flannel Board

First, I’d include Mom’s flannel board. A piece of cardboard covered with navy blue flannel, propped on an easel, came to life in our home and in basement Sunday school rooms. After smoothing out a background of a lion’s den, Mom placed Daniel in jeopardy, facing hungry lions. She would tell of Daniel’s faithfulness to serve and trust God no matter what the cost. And she’d testify to God’s faithful attentiveness to Daniel and to us—those listening to the story.

Mom had taken Deuteronomy 6:6-7 to heart. It instructs us to diligently teach God’s commands to our children; to talk of His ways when we sit in our house, walk by the way, lie down, and when we rise up. A flannel board was one thing Mom used to teach and model God’s character and commands. The Little Hymnal was another.

A Songbook

A soft-cover bright blue booklet traveled with us in Mom’s purse. With Dad behind the wheel and her three, eventually four, daughters in the seat behind her, Mom would start the family sing-along. Leaning on the Everlasting Arms, Heavenly Sunshine, When the Roll is Called Up Yonder and countless other songs reverberated off the station wagon’s windows as we rolled down the highway.

The songbook represented my mom’s love of music and her joy in the Lord. She was singing “The Lord is good, tell it wherever you go” over sudsy dishwater when Dad’s captain on the California Highway Patrol rang our doorbell with news that Dad’s patrol motorcycle had gone down with him on it. (After four months of recuperation, he was back on duty in a patrol car.)

Twenty-three years later, Mom was still singing. This time, with a lump of emotions caught in her throat, she sang Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus over Daddy’s deathbed. The words from her songbook and their truth were imprinted on her heart. And upon the hearts of her four children. Along with the tradition of singing hymns and praise songs to pass and mark the times of life.

Pearls

A strand of pearls—known in our family as the wedding pearls—serves as the third item for Mom’s time capsule.

William Bert Gansberg, the man who would later become my father, bought the pearls in Adak, Alaska at a Navy PX and presented them to his fiancé for Christmas in 1952. June 14, l953 the white pearls shone with promise, adorning Stella June’s neck as she walked down the aisle to become Bill’s bride. Today, several of her granddaughters have worn the pearls in their own weddings.

The years have cast a shadow on the now golden patina pearls. But, like the pearls, the family they encircle remains bound by a common thread. Mom and Dad established a heritage of love, demonstrating God’s love toward us and showing us how to love one another.

Of course, there are many more things that could go into that time capsule to symbolize and summarize my mother’s role in my life. But these have been instruments—visual training tools that stretched my sensibilities. Besides, Mom would say (or demonstrate it on her flannel board) that any ordinary thing placed in God’s hands becomes extraordinary, and that’s true if it’s inanimate or human.

What three items would you place in a time capsule to honor your mother?