The Treasure Chest

Nestled between a common space and the mailroom in the independent living section of the retirement community where I worked as a fellow in geriatrics, there was a place called the Treasure Chest — a small thrift store filled with things that held far more value than listed on their price tag. Walking into the room, you would notice a line of tables on the left sprinkled with trinkets and a range of items. On the right, tall glass cases stood like sentinels guarding jewels, gems, and other things that sparkled.