Mystery: a bag of dirt?

“So, what’s with the bag of dirt?”

I answered, “What are you talking about?”

My son went on, “The little bag of dirt in the front cover of the Bible.”

Forty years ago my mom gave my wife and I a super-sized King James family Bible as a wedding gift. I was never quite sure what to do with it. She did write in some important family tree information that we didn’t have anywhere rose. But it went unused until Good Friday came along and I needed a hefty volume to slam in the darkness, reminding us of the closing of the tomb after Jesus died and was buried.

When I retired, I gave the Bible to my son, also a pastor. After dozens of slams, it was showing its age. But it still made the congregation jump as he slammed it against the pulpit.

But while getting ready for Holy Week, he found a small sandwich bag containing a couple tablespoons of dirt. You would think it would have flown out during one of many slams. It doesn’t appear to be anyone’s remains. No one in our family has been cremated (including pets).

Mom’s been gone nineteen years now. Dad died five years ago. So we can’t ask them. All we can do is guess where it came from.

I had a little brother who died when I was only a year old. Could it be soil from his burial plot? What about dirt from one of the places where we lived? A memento from one of dad’s gardens?

We could send it off to a lab that can tell where it came from. For now, it’s a mystery.