Mason Jars

Mason Jars
I was called a “glass” along with five other Mason jars. We were filled with iced tea, lemonade or water and were a part of every meal, rough edges, chips and all. Made of heavy, chunky glass, it was rare that we would break when we hit the floor. Maybe that was why Maria used us for every day as well as when company came. We weren’t the only Mason jars in the house. I saw some that contained canned tomatoes, green beans and bread and butter pickles. I don’t think we were valued just because we were almost indestructible but rather because of the nostalgia of days when times were tough during the depression. Grandma Sophia preserved vegetables from the garden in various sized Mason jars. It is told that Maria inherited a few of Grandma Sophia’s jars. Then, being a history buff, she began doing research on other canning jars of the time—Kerr, Ball, and Atlas. Sometimes she was lucky enough to acquire some blue ones at yard sales. Before long the house became overrun with canning jars of which there was no use. She didn’t plant a garden anymore. There was no need to spend hours canning tomatoes and making bread and butter pickles any more.
Word spread that Maria was sorting out the jars and was planning to have her own yard sale.
“We’ve got to stop it!” Lorena told Mabel. “It is sacrilegious to even think of selling Grandma Sophia’s historic canning jars! We’ve got to act quick before they are scattered all over the place.”
I felt that we were pretty safe because we had a purpose. We had our own designated spot in the cupboard and were used for each meal. I silently grinned. What Lorena and Mabel didn’t know was that the six of us Mason jars didn’t even belong to Grandma Sophia in the first place. Many of the other coveted jars didn’t either. There wasn’t any nostalgic family history with us even though we were the same as Grandma’s other jars.
Right before the annual Memorial Day picnic, Maria said, “I’ve got to do some spring cleaning and decided what to do with all these jars. They’re just taking up space. I’m boxing up all this clutter and the Mason jars are going to be the first to go. They are just taking up valuable space. Of course, I won’t part with Grandma Sophia’s—chips and all. I remember looking down from my very secure place in the kitchen, feeling very smug. No, we were safe. We weren’t going anywhere. Maria set up a card table in the corner of the kitchen placing various sized jars on the table. She wrote prices on masking tape ranging from 10 cents to 25 cents. Some blue jars commanded a higher price.
What a job it turned out to be for Maria had collected boxes of jars as her interest in history drew her to more and more yard sales. The job wasn’t finished yet by the Memorial Day picnic. She hurriedly brought in empty boxes from the garage and began filling them to the top.
Lorena and Mabel came by early the day of the picnic. The instant the screen door slammed behind them their eyes focused on the boxes of glass jars. Rooting through the boxes, they each pulled out some that caught their eye.
“Here’s Grandma Sophia’s turquoise pint jar,” Lorena said with disgust. “How could Maria think of such a thing.”
“It is sacrilegious,” Mabel agreed. “Well, I am taking some of them home with me.”
The six of us sat quietly on the shelf hoping they wouldn’t spot us and wrap us up in newspaper. Instead, Lorena got out her checkbook and totaled the amounts listed on the masking tape. Tearing out the check, she said with finality, “Well, that does it. Maria can’t say I just “took them.” I am “paying” for them, and if I must say so myself at a good price at that.”
Lorena laid the check on the kitchen counter and took the box of treasures out the door. Just then, Maria was on her way up the sidewalk.
“What’s in the box?” Maria asked.
“I’m buying some of Grandma Sophia’s glass canning jars,” Lorena commented matter of factly, “and I left you a check for them on the counter.”
“What?” Maria, questioned. “I haven’t even decided for sure that I am going to sell all of them. You sure have the nerve to up and pick through the boxes and take what you want without asking first.”
“Well, you had a price on them so I assumed that it had already been decided that you were selling them. And I just can’t imagine you letting Grandma Sophia’s antique canning jars to be sold for a little bit of nothing at a common yard sale. They are not just worthless empty jars. There are too many nostalgic memories in these jars.”
“Well, I just wish you had asked me first, and I would have given them to you,” Maria said.
“Oh, you know I would have never taken them without paying for them,” Lorena said. “I never ask for anything, and I am not a beggar. I couldn’t let you just toss them to the wind. Your check is on the counter.”
Maria, knowing the stubbornness of this member of her family just shook her head and said, “Well, go ahead and take them and enjoy.”
Maria walked back into the house and opened the door of the guest room. Another card table sat there. “Yes,” said Maria. “All of Grandma Sophia’s Mason jars are right here.” She laughed and walked out of the room.