Precious Jewels

This is Matteo, our youngest grandchild, not counting his sibling still under construction.

He needed a cup and a child-sized plate, so I hauled out the old Bunnykins dinnerware.   His mother was worried.  "It might break!", as if I was taking some huge risk on a priceless heirloom.
"Oh well,"  I replied.
The risk was worth it, seeing him enjoy the set our children had used over thirty-five years ago.
Matteo doesn't really talk yet, but he showed his pleasure by pointing to each rabbit chasing around the rim of the plate.  
We're trying to downsize our possessions to fit a houseful of "stuff" into a smaller condo.  So far, it hasn't been too painful because not everything has been brought in.  My instructions are to be ruthless in my selection process, discarding things that we really have no use for, and even, that we haven't used for years.  This is a bit difficult for me, because I've always been a hoarder. 
It's a toss-up between real mementos and too many papers and unnecessary objects.
They are only things.  The real treasures are those that have eternal value: our family.
I thought of a children's hymn we used to sing in Sunday School:

When he cometh, when he cometh
To make up his jewels,
All his jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and his own 
      Like the stars of the morning,
      His bright crown adorning,
      They shall shine in their beauty,
      Bright gems for his crown.
Little children, little children,
Who love their Redeemer,
Are the jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and his own. 

Precious jewels win in this downsizing process.