When I Was A Kid my mom kept a small knick-knack-keepsake box on our living room coffee table. Its sides were about 9 inches by 9 inches and it was about 4 inches tall. It was an oak color with a decorative top. I don’t really remember what the decoration on top was. To tell the truth the box wasn’t all that attractive. I have no idea where it came from or where it is now. I do know that Mom still has it somewhere. It’s an important box. Not because it’s expensive or a valuable antique. It’s important to Mom because of what’s inside.
Inside Mom’s little coffee table keepsake box is a collection of autographed cocktail napkins. It isn’t a huge collection and I don’t remember who all signed those napkins but Mom treasures them. I believe they were all country western singers. Mom worked for a few years at a hotel and met these singers and got their autographs. I remember a couple of them: Mac Davis and Roy Clark. Mac Davis is probably Mom’s favorite. I know she was awful fond of him and Larry Gatlin.
I know that there’s not much I’m good for. I’m not all that good looking. Heaven knows I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer. My talent can fit in a thimble. But there’s something inside me that makes me valuable: God. The God who created this incredible universe, who loves me enough that He died for me, has written His name on my heart. Because His hand has touched me I am more valuable than all the gold, silver, jewels and money on earth. His autograph has given me infinite worth.