Saving an orphan
Posted: Friday, November 19, 2010
by George Stay
I recently picked up an orphan left at the side of the road.
It was sitting there, so small, looking forlorn and dejected. I was going to ignore it and drive on but I simply could not just leave it there. Who knows what would have happened to it? It might have ended up in the road, hit by a car.
So I stopped, opened the back of my truck and lifted it into the bed. And I took it home.
As we would a house, I tried first to clean the smell away. But it would not leave and the coat still showed the gray dullness that is the side effect of smoke. So I had only one choice.
I got out the stripper.
I've done this before, but never to deal with smoke. I figured if I could get the top layer off, the smell would go with it.
In no time at all, the orphan was stripped naked.
Well, sort of.
Actually there still was some paint stuck around the small edges and in the joints, where wood met wood. As near as I could tell, it originally had been painted white, then covered in red and then, I think, in the gray that had suffered in the fire that this small child's chair had clearly been in.
Getting into those tiny crevices is labor-intensive work. Despite all of the claims on television about this handy tool or that one making light of such work, in my experience the only thing that works is a folded piece of sandpaper, the lower the grit the better. And then you just have to sand by hand until the last remaining paint is gone.
I have no real use for this chair. My children are both grown and I know of no child who will fit this wooden orphan. But I brought it home anyway, to sand it, finish it and save it from the dump.
I find this work soothing. I love the smell of sanded wood. My hands revel in the feel of the smoothed surface. I often close my eyes and let my hands wander all over a piece just to see if any rough spots remain. There is a sense of accomplishment in watching something that once was ugly and forlorn get stripped of its ugliness and then be lovingly given a new stain and three, four, five or more coats of polyurethane, taking the time to smooth the finish between each and every coat.
I know it will strike many people as goofy, even crazy, but I find joy in taking something like this chair, which another has discarded, and turning it into something worthwhile, beautiful even. I find peace and satisfaction in the solitary pursuit, in the work of human hands, in the effort, in the time spent to make something look good once more, if not for the very first time.
For Christmas a few years ago, I took a pair of old, cheap, small nightstands and refinished them for my oldest son. One of them required a little repair and they were still made of inexpensive wood when I was done with them, but the tops were finished natural with a high gloss varnish, as were the faces of the two drawers. Then I painted the body, which was some very knotty wood, in white. I put some white porcelain knobs on the drawers. I liked how they looked and was quite proud that I had turned "junk" into something worth using again.
I hope to do the same with the small chair. It's made of just pine, and not ornate or intricate. In fact, I think it once was used in a school somewhere. It probably sat at a desk, holding young people as they learned some of their first lessons. It may well serve that purpose again when I am done, for I don't have a clue what I will do with it once the work is complete.
In the meantime, I am taking good care of my new orphan, removing the last remnants of the old paint that once kept the beauty of the wood from sight. It will get all the loving, tender care these old hands can supply. And when it is done, I will give it to someone who will love it and care for it.
And I will go looking for another orphan to save.
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Top-level comments on this article: (8 total)I can relate to that pleasure of cleaning something up and making it look beautiful. Lucky little orphan!
I can certainly relate to this. My wife and I have been married for 38 years and the only new furniture in our home is our leather couches, TVs, beds and appliances. All our furniture is old or antique. We look for cheap or discarded, not fancy stuff from antique stores.David, I have some nicer, newer furniture in my house, but I also have several pieces that I have saved through the years, and hope to have even more. There are couple of end tables I am also working on right now.
From the start I thought you were talking about an orphan child, so it robbed me wrong that you used the pronoun "it". Then I thought the orphan was an animal which is rightly an "it". Now I understand. Very sneaky, George, but good. ~mogama~Mogama, thanks for getting it. I intended for the reader to think I was saving a child, a lost dog, a forgotten kitten, when, in fact, it was just a chair. I appreciate your comment very much.
Good story George, thanks for sharing.
This was a nice story. Maybe a grandchild will use the little chair one day? It would be nice to pass it on to your children, I'm sure they would appreciate it.Brianna, I really am not sure what I will do with it. A grandchild? Maybe. I guess we'll just have to see. THanks for commenting.
I was scared to death by your prologue. (thought it was a baby or something dumped at the road side) but as I read on, everything was clear. (relieved)
Humorous and creative as a handyman, George.Hilda, sorry I scared you. But I wanted to entice you, and all readers, into thinking just what you thought. So that when I finally revealed to you that it was a chair, you would understand how I feel about such "discards."
Sir! Very nice and well written. Quality stories like yours always give inspiration to me including me as this one. Thanks...
Amazing how the term "orphan" changed definition for me no less than three times during your article, George! Very good writing, and an excellent story to share with us.Danny, thanks. I did that on purpose and I am glad it worked. I just wanted to get people thinking, wondering and then surprise them a little.
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