IF THIS BELT BUCKLE COULD TALK

Don’t you wish certain articles would come with stories attached? A diary of their travels, all dates intact and anecdotes about what has transpired during their existence. Or even just a small piece of paper attached to tell you who the item has belonged to over the years. Where the item has gone and how it arrived. Doesn’t it make you wonder sometimes?

Recently I was given the chance to pass on a family heirloom. It was an antique belt, which had been tucked away and long forgotten in the back of one of my drawers. Years ago I inherited this item while cleaning out our mother’s house and going through her belongings. This belt appeared and none of us had any recollection of seeing it as a child, nor did any of us know where it came from. At that point I brought it home and placed it in a safe place with several other mementos. I tucked it away and promptly forgot about it. Years went by and I kept it hidden away, forgetting about it.

So when my daughter was voicing the fact that she was looking for the perfect vintage belt for her cousin and she was having a great deal of difficulty finding a suitable one I suddenly remembered my hidden treasure. Sure that I was never going to wear it, I felt it was time to pass it on. With trepidation I dug it out and handed it over. At this point I have to admit I wasn’t really expecting it to be quite what she was looking for-- after all, her taste varies from mine in many ways. But lo and behold she thought it was perfect.

Now this belt is quite unique. The leather is worn and has signs of being worn over many a hip. Whose hips, I have no idea. The buckle is silver with some beautiful engraving on it, swirls and intricate design. In the middle sits a beautiful gold set of cowboy boots, complete with spurs. And you can tell by the design they are ladies boots, not gents. Now the gold is a bit tarnished, but you can tell it is of good quality. There are no dents or scratches-- it has been well looked after. No dates or markings are engraved on the back, but somehow it looks like it could be a trophy buckle.

This is where the imagination sets in. Now is the time to imagine where this buckle has travelled and how it got here. Was it worn by our Mother, or did it come from another relative or friend? Was it a gift? Was it a prized trophy? Yes, I do wish it could talk.

Did my mother receive it at a majorette competition? She could twirl that baton like a real pro. Her white boots stood polished and waiting. They would practice for hours; marching and perfecting their routine, and the troupe travelled to numerous parades and local functions. The day of the parade she would march ahead of the others and her baton would glisten in the sunlight, as it travelled back to her open hand. Crowds would applaud, marveling at her skill. Did she win it at one of these fairs?

Is it a buckle awarded to the top lady barrel racer at a long ago rodeo? Won during the beginning years of early local rodeos. The dust settling and the braying of cattle in the background; the crowd leans forward and listens while a young lady proudly accepts her reward. Sunset in the background, and mosquitos just beginning to buzz around in the early evening dusk. The smell of horses permeating every nostril in the stands. She proudly steps forward and accepts the prize.

Or could it have been a special award for achieving top marks in a high school class? Trophies that we know of today weren’t used in the 1940’s and 50’s. Instead practical items were given. Something a young lady could use to help her in her days ahead- obviously it went to a person in an agricultural area. She would receive it from the head master, beaming as he handed it over to her in front of the entire school body of 69 students (ranging from Grade 1 to 12).

Perhaps it was a gift from a beau? He scraped for several weeks to buy that buckle. He saw it in the Eaton’s catalogue and knew he just had to have it for her. He knew if he could give that to her she would definitely say ‘yes’ when he asked that important question. Plus her father would be suitably impressed and also say ‘yes’. It would show he could provide for a new wife in the proper way.

Or was it a purchase for the new skirt to be worn at the next big barn-dance? This was to be the biggest social event of the year. People would come from far and wide to attend. She knew if she wore this buckle he would definitely notice her. And after the first dance she would be ready to dance long into the evening; dancing the two step, the polka and the old time waltz with ease. Breathlessly waiting for the caller to announce the ‘box-social’; she would be prepared to share her box of special treats, the turkey sandwiches, the wafer thin cookies and bright red apples. Oh, it would be a glorious barn-dance.

Was it a present given to her on the eve of their last good-bye? Her gallant young soldier presents it to her as they say a farewell under the big maple tree. Stars twinkle up above, and promises are made. The moon casts long silvery shadows over the young pair. They make plans to begin a new life together as soon as he is finished doing his patriotic duty overseas. He ships out with his unit in the morning, headed for the shores of France to stop the German troops. After he leaves she wears that belt every day and feels like she has a part of him with her when she touches the buckle. But for him, tomorrow never comes and promises remain broken. When the telegram arrives she cradles that buckle as if it is his own hand.

Maybe it travelled many miles across unbroken prairie to arrive in a far off homesteader’s shack. Many of my mother’s relatives travelled from the farming area of the United States to settle in the wilderness of Northern Canada. Hard back breaking work to be completed to clear acres for their future crops. The belt buckle would only get in the way of working long hours in a new garden so it was lovingly tucked away in a hope chest.

Whatever the story the history will remain a secret. But now it has been given another journey and a new set of hips to grace. Yes, my niece loves it and proudly wears it for all to see. Maybe she will come into contact with someone that will recognize it and be able to share the true story. But for now it will remain silent.

Oh, how I wish it could talk!!