Within the comforts of a warm home, a family slept peacefully, oblivious to the fact that a storm raged outside of their compounds.  Wind shook the leafless trees with its icy breeze, and snow began to cover the ground.  The Michigan winter was at its worst now reaching the end of February.  Most of the winter had been mild, lacking the usual coating of snow; but now it was being made up for with the biggest snowstorm in years.
As the family slept in their warm beds, their dog, a scruffy mutt, began to bark fiercely outside the door.  The father of the house awoke immediately.  Why their usually gentle family dog would be barking so ferociously would only be because an intruder had trespassed on the family land.  He jumped out of bed, slid into his slippers, threw on his robe, and grabbed his shotgun which he kept by the side of his bed.  Still half asleep, he stumbled to the front door, and swung it open just wide enough to see outside.  The man grabbed the kerosene lamp which hung near the door, lit it, and stared into the grey night.  Cold snowflakes brushed against his warm cheeks and bit his pointed noise.  He could barely see the railing of his porch two feet in front of him.  As he squinted into the snow, a figure emerged out of the whiteness.
The father raised his gun, “What do you want?” he yelled.  He could now see that the figure was a tall, bulky man clothed head to toes in fur.  He had a coonskin cap on his head and a long charcoal-colored beard lining his jaw.  The man carried nothing but a small pack swung over his shoulder.
“Don’t shoot!” the man yelled.  “I am a miner from up north.  I was starting to head south to my home, but this storm caught me by surprise.  I’d be much obliged if you had a place for me to stay for the night.  I’ve been travelling all day, and my feet need a rest.”
“What’s wrong, Shad?”  A woman asked as she came up behind her husband who was talking to the stranger at the door. She pulled her worn shawl around her torso, and peered over her husband’s shoulder.
“This man was travelling and got caught in this storm.  He is wondering if we could put him up for the night,” her husband responded.
“We can’t let the poor fellow, stay outside; he’ll freeze to death!”  The woman replied. “Why don’t we put him up in the barn.  It’s nothing fancy but it’s clean and warm!”
“That’s very kind of you, Ma’am, but I couldn’t put you kind folks through all that trouble.” He said humbly.
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” Shadrach chimed in. “Go get some pillows and blankets, Beth, and I’ll show out guest to the barn.”
The next morning four pairs of eyes stared in anticipation out the kitchen window.  After they got up in the morning, Beth and Shadrach told their children about the visitor who was staying in their barn. “We will make a family trip to the barn at ten o’clock,” the mother informed her children. “Our guest was travelling all night, and needs his rest.” So the four children sat in expectancy for three hours, occasionally glancing at the grandfather clock over the mantle, and praying that ten o’clock would arrive soon.
“Is it ten yet?” the youngest boy, Mitch, asked every few minutes.
“Not yet.”  His older siblings would reply, and the four stared out the window.
As soon as the clock struck ten, the four little children were at their mother’s side ready to meet the mysterious visitor.  “Go, fetch your pa,” she ordered one of the little boys then she distributed a bowl of soup, a mug of milk, and a handful of crackers between the other children to bring to their guest.  Soon Shadrach and Joel joined the others and the band was heading through the snow towards the barn.
“Knock, knock,” Shadrach said as he slid the door open.  “I brought some visitors to meet you, Sir.”
“Well, come on in, children!” the visitor urged as he saw the little ones peeking around their father’s legs.  The children looked up at their father, just to make sure that it was fine to go into the barn now.  When he nodded in reply, smiles beamed across the children’s faces and they slipped into the barn.  They held out the food to the jolly stranger as they gathered around him.
“Now, what do we have here?” The man asked, examining the food.  “Steaming chicken soup, fresh milk, and some saltine crackers!  How did you know that this is my favorite meal?”
“Mama knows everything!” Joel smiled.
“I guess she does!”  the man replied with a grin, “I bet it tastes as good as it looks!”  He picked up the little silver spoon, which had a chip in its stem, in his rough hand and raised it to his mouth.  “Humumum!”  he said tasting the soup.  “You’re a mighty fine cook, Ma’am, I’ve never tasted stew so good!”
“Thank you,” Beth replied with a blush.
“What’s your name, Mister?”  Mitch asked pulling on the sleeve of the man’s red flannel shirt.
“I’m Mr. Henry, young man, what’s yours?” the visitor replied.
“I’m Mitch,” he responded.
“And I’m Joel,” Joel said as he stuck out his little hand to shake Mr. Henry’s.  “This is my little sister, Lisa,” he pointed to the girl with dark pigtails and dimples standing behind him.
“Nice to meet you both,” Mr. Henry shook Joel’s hand waved to the shy little girl.
“I’m, Laurie, the oldest,” a tall thin boy of about seven said.
“Well, nice to meet you all,” Mr. Henry said to the crew.
“What’s in that sack, Mister?” Joel pointed to the buckskin bag sitting on a hay bale next to the big man.
“That’s where I keep all my treasures.”  Mr. Henry explained as he finished off his soup.
“Can I see?” Mitch asked.
“Well, of course! But it’s going to take a while, so you’d better make sure it’s ok with your ma and pa.” he replied.  Five pairs of blue eyes stared up at Shadrach and Beth, the four children’s and Mr. Henry’s.
“It’s fine with me.”  Shad replied.  “I need to get to work, so if it’s ok with Beth…”
“Oh, well, I need to get some work done in the house, so if you are fine with watching the children for a while, I will go get some things done,” was Beth’s response.
“You do what you need to, Ma’am; I’ll keep the children entertained.”  Mr. Henry promised.
“If they give you any problems, they can come in and work on some chores.”  Beth threatened her children with work then proceeded out of the barn and up to the house.  The children all gathered around Mr. Henry and his sack, waiting to see what treasures it held.  Mr. Henry opened his bag and preceded the remove objects out of it and placed them on the hay bale, one by one. There was an acorn, a brass button, the stub of a candle and a various assortment of other things.
“Well, it’s nothing but a bunch of junk!”  Laurie claimed.
“It may look like junk to the untrained eye, but to me they are treasured memories.” Mr. Henry explained.
“What do you mean by that?” Asked Lisa.
“You see, Little Ones, each object in my bag has a different story, a different memory.  Take this broken pocket watch, for example,” Mr. Henry picked up the tarnished gold watch, and held it in his large hand.  “It was given to me by General George Armstrong Custer who I served under in the Civil War.   I was under his command in the Michigan Seventh Calvary when we were fighting at Little Big Horn, which is now known as Custer’s last stand.”  Mr. Henry cleared his voice and held the watch by the chain and let in dangle in front of the children’s bright eyes.  The old watch caught the sunlight and glistened, casting sparkles all around the room.
“What about this?” Joel asked as he held up the acorn.
“Now, let’s see,” Mr. Henry began. “I got that in 1854, over in Jackson, Michigan where the first statewide meeting of the Republican Party was held.  I was only eighteen at the time, but I remember it like it was only yesterday.  The meeting was held under this giant oak tree over there in Jackson.  Several influential men of the time spoke about just what the Republican Party would stand for.  Their main goal was to end the expansion of slavery into new states.  Right there and then I decided that I would stand with the Republicans from then on!  After the meeting was over I reached up and pulled this acorn off the tree, wanting to always remember that I was part of the beginning of the Republican Party.”
The children picked up object after object and asked Mr. Henry about the story behind each one. Mr. Henry told the children memory after memory until it was growing dark once again.  “It’s time to get ready for supper, kids,” Beth told her children appearing at the barn door again.
“Can Mr. Henry eat supper with us, Mama?” Lisa begged her mother.
“If he would like,” she replied to her daughter.
“I couldn’t entrude…” Mr. Henry began.
“Nonsense!”  Beth replied, “we would be grateful if you’d join us!”
Mr. Henry ate dinner with his new-found friends.  They told stories and laughed and had a very merry time.  When dinner was over the family urged Mr. Henry to stay another night, because it was dark once again and the main roads were still badly drifted over.  Mr. Henry stayed that night, and the next, and the next, until it was nearly the end of March and almost all the snow had long been gone.  Mr. Henry helped around the family’s farm patching the barn roof, feeding the animals while Laurie and Joel were off at school, Shadrach was at work, and Beth and the two younger kids cleaned around the house.
One spring evening, the family and their old friend sat around the dinner table.  “I think it’s about time that I move along,” Mr. Henry said out of the blue.
“Oh, couldn’t you stay a little longer?” the children pleaded as they jumped up and wrapped their arms around the man’s large neck.
“I’m afraid not, you see, you all have been very kind to me and very loving, but I have grandchildren down in Toledo, who are missing their grandpa.”  He said as he scoped the children onto his lap. “I’ve loved spending time with all of you, but it’s about time I mosey along.”
“I don’t want you to go, Mr. Henry!”  Lisa cried as she buried her face in his long beard.
“I know, Sweetie,” Mr. Henry responded as he squeezed the little girl in his arms. 
“But how are you going to remember us?” Mitch asked.
Mr. Henry thought for a minute than replied, “I’ll tell you what, give me that little silver spoon with the chip in the stem that I used for my first meal here.  I will put that in my pack of memories, so I can remember you all forever.”  The children brought that little spoon to Mr. Henry and added it to his treasures.
“We will have breakfast for you in the morning and pack you a lunch for tomorrow.” Beth offered Mr. Henry.
“That sounds great.” He replied with a nod and a smile then he headed towards that barn as the children got ready for bed.  While the family was sleeping, snug in their beds, Mr. Henry was wide awake completing a project for the children.
The family and Mr. Henry had a delicious breakfast together.  They were about to send their friend on his way when he pulled out four little buckskin sacks.  “These, children, are your very own treasure sacks to store your memories in.  I have something for each of you to remember me.”  Mr. Henry knelt down to talk to the children and continued.  “For Laurie, the oldest, I have my pocket knife that I’ve used to make things and fix things; it has saved my life more than once.  I give it to you so you will always remember to be brave and to always work your hardest.” 
He moved over to Joel.  “For Joel I have my coonskin hat.  It is to remind you to supply for all the needs of your family.”
Next was for Lisa.  “For my sweet, little, Lisa,” Mr. Henry began, “I have a spool of black thread and an old needle, that I carry everywhere.  Remember to always do the things that are asked of you, no matter how small the task, if it weren’t for those willing to do the little things, nothing would ever get done at all.”
“Last but not least, Mitch.” Mr. Henry looked to the littlest boy and said, “I have for you my canteen for water.  You are to use this on all of your long journeys, it is to remind you to care for all the resources that you have.”
At that Mr. Henry turned and walked down the muddy road.  The family watched as he disappeared in the distance.  At that moment they realized that the man, for which they thought they were doing a favor, had really done them the biggest favor of all.  Sure, they fed him and gave him a place to lay his head, but he taught them how to make memories, and when everything else is gone, memories are what keeps people’s spirits alive.