The Special Box: A Lesson in Less
- kimpendleton
- Apr 8
- 2 min read
Updated: Apr 23
I used to keep a giant box—my special box. It held little treasures from the years I spent raising my children. It was my way of holding on to the moments I never wanted to forget.
One day, I went to add another memento, but when I opened the lid, I stopped short.
The box was stuffed.
Not with memories I had saved... but with stacks and stacks of old printer paper. The kind with perforated holes down the sides. Some were glued together in wild patterns, some scribbled on, others crumpled into messy balls. And in the middle of it all, a drawing by my youngest son, Ethan.
I found him and asked, “Hey buddy, what’s all this?”
He looked up at me, earnest and unbothered.“I wanted my things to fill up your special box,” he said.
Wow!
His words stopped me in my tracks.
As a busy mom, that hit me hard.
In his innocence, Ethan was looking for something all children seek: to be seen, to feel valued. He believed that if his things were in the special box, he would be special too.
The simplicity of his logic moved me deeply. I cry now thinking about it—how a child’s heart longs to be seen, to be cherished, and sometimes believes that tangible items will grant that status.
I carefully sifted through the pile, found the page with his drawing, and assured him it would stay in the box. I gently explained that I needed to remove the rest.
I don't remember exactly what I said beyond that or whether I fully conveyed why only certain things made it into my special box. What I do remember is that after that day, he didn’t try to fill it again.
It was never about the box. It was about the connection, the love, the real memories we were making—not the physical ones we stored away.
That’s the heart of minimalism. It’s not just about clearing clutter or having fewer things. It’s about choosing the meaningful over the many, the cherished over the chaotic.
My focus shifted from holding onto things to holding onto moments.
Maybe it’s time we all ask ourselves: What are we holding onto—and why?
Because when we start to let go of what doesn’t matter, we make room for what truly does.
Let’s choose less.
Less stuff.
Less striving.
Less noise.
So we can make space for more love, more presence, more peace.
🌿Three quiet questions to help you choose meaning over clutter
Take a moment to consider the items you've kept over the years. Do they represent moments of meaning, or are they placeholders for something deeper you’re afraid to let go of?
Just like Ethan, there may be someone quietly asking for your attention or validation. How can you offer presence over possessions in response?
If you were to create a box of what truly matters now, what would you include? Let this be a mirror for the values you want to live by moving forward.
