Call It Kismet
Kismet: noun. That which is inevitably destined: destiny, fate, fortune, lot, portion, predestination. It’s been said that home is where the heart is. In my case, my home away from home turned out to be an antique shop in the town where I had just decided to spend the rest of my life. Maybe my housewarming was courtesy of the friendly British lady who owned the store and offered a greeting and colorful stories from the first time that I walked through the door. Maybe it was the free bottle of wine, a Christmas gift with purchase. Perhaps it was the way that the items themselves– from the useful to the unusual – seemed to have their own tales to tell.
The silver music box/baby cup with the name “Pia” inscribed on it captured my heart when I found it on a shelf. Equally, it was love at first sight at the shabby teddy bear with the old tape measure for a collar. From the slightly worn Afghans to the vintage clothing, there was a charm and a certain mystique about the place that seemed to attract people to shop as well as to stay a while. I first visited Jan’s with the intention of home decorating, but subsequent visits grew into much, much more. Friendships blossomed like flowers amongst the enchanting décor. The newcomer in me began to feel like one of the locals, and as I learned about everything from Daguerreotype to Wedgewood, I felt like I was moving on. This antiques adventure has taken me down many paths – the Minnie Mouse watch I wished for as a child, the neon bagel sign that lights up when I pull its string. The store is like a treasure chest and the attic of all attics rolled up in a huge magic carpet, and I wait for the genie to burst from one of the bottles. When the big truck pulls up outside to deliver its cargo, one never knows what hides within. There is only the certainty that it will be placed inside the store in no certain order – which, after all, is the beauty of the hodgepodge shop. Looking at the old family photographs and other personal belongings, it is as if the people who once owned them are saying, “What was once ours is now yours.” They also beckon others to browse, buy, and discuss everything from philosophy to recipes. “This store is amazing. It has changed my life!” one customer exclaimed, and I could not agree more. I’ve long been considered a shopaholic. And, antiquing as a past time once upon a time helped me endure the madness of college. But Jan’s somehow gives new meaning to it all. Never mind that the ceiling leaks when it rains. It always seems sunny in the building that once housed a department store. Call it kismet, but I have grown to adore the place almost as much as my real home, to which I took the bed warmer and other old objects to make my new surroundings even cozier. Rabbi M.M. Schneerson once wrote, “Life does not tell stories. People do.” Sometimes, things do, as well. In the fairytale that living occassionally becomes, it’s okay to have a chapter titled stuff. Sarah Rivera is a freelance writer who lives in Atlanta, Georgia. She relies heavily on chocolate and a sense of humor.