My husband and I searched for a housekeeper for months. Running our business left little time for the house, but we just couldn’t find the perfect person.
Our home was filled with eclectic souvenirs from our travels—glassware from Eastern Europe, hand-carved spoons from Poland, ironwork from the Czech Republic, pottery from Japan. We wanted a housekeeper who would care for our mementos as we would.
Then one day I bumped into my old neighbor Michelle, who had recently moved back to the area. I hadn’t seen her in years. She invited me over to her new place. I was impressed by how spotless it was. “That’s all Agnes,” Michelle said. “She’s amazing.” A young Polish immigrant earning her nursing degree, Agnes had been working for Michelle for a year.
“I’d love to meet her,” I said.
When Agnes finally came to my house, I hoped she’d do wonders for us too. I gave her a tour of our home, showing her what needed to be done. The dining room, I warned her, was filled with handcrafted artwork from around the world. “It’s a lot of dusting…” I began, but Agnes wasn’t listening. Her eyes were glued to the three carved spoons my husband had bought years before. To my astonishment, Agnes burst into tears.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Those spoons!” she cried.
“The spoons?” I didn’t understand. “They’re from Poland…”
“From Zakopane,” she said.
How does she know that?
“My father was an artist there,” Agnes continued. “He died when I was ten and my mother had to sell all of his work for us to survive.” She lovingly fingered the design etched in the light wood. “I’d recognize his flower carvings anywhere. I never thought I’d see these again.”
I gave the spoons to Agnes. Who better to care for our treasures than someone who knew how much love and effort went into every piece?
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