Nestled on my bookshelf, held together with masking tape and memory, sits The Best Loved Poems of the American People, copyright 1936. It belonged to my mother. Each Christmas Eve, she would read A Visit from St. Nick to my sister and me from those now fragile, faded pages. Some are barely clinging to the spine, but that book remains one of my most cherished possessions.
If my house were burning, I believe I would try to save it. Not for its market worth—but for its intrinsic value. For the laughter, the love, the traditions it carries.
We all assign value based not just on rarity or price, but on meaning. For some, it might be vintage cars, baseball cards, or movie memorabilia. And while it’s easy to scoff at the staggering price someone pays for something we find frivolous, we often overlook what it represents to them—memories, milestones, dreams.
In my upcoming novel, Universal Justice, Brad Mason’s prized possession isn’t valuable because it’s a classic 1983 Datsun 280ZX. It matters because of what it stands for: the Pulitzer Prize-winning story that launched his career, and even more, a symbol of independence from a legacy he felt compelled to rewrite.
So, I ask you, dear reader—what do you treasure? What item, worn or shiny, modest or grand, holds intrinsic value for you? I’d really like to know.