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The Roll Top Desk...

A few days after moving in to the Highlands, the kids were helping me unpack and settle in while Art was at work. An old Roll Top Desk, which had once belonged to my Grandmother, was one of several pieces of furniture the movers had put in the wrong room. Brianne and I decided to try and move the desk by ourselves from the Red Room (off of the Foyer) to the wall at the bottom of the steps going to the third level. With Brianne on the lower steps as I would be going backwards above her, we figured we could lift the desk one-step-at-a-time on the count of 3 and then wait a bit before moving on to the next step up. By the time we got to the fourth step, we realized we had made a huge mistake. This desk was much heavier than we anticipated. It had already taken us 15 minutes just to go from the Red Room, across the foyer and up those first few stairs. We felt there was no way we could make it the rest of the way. Our only options: We could try going back down the 4 steps to the foyer or we could go up 6 steps to the landing and wait until Art got home to help. We decided going up 6 would be better than trying to go back down.

On the count of 3, we would try to lift it to the 5th step, just as we had been doing, and then wait until we got strength again before moving up the last 5 steps to the first landing. One...Two...Three...we lifted and suddenly the desk was unbelievably light. There was no time to question the levity; we just needed to take advantage of our newfound strength and charge up the stairs. As we breezed up the 5 steps and across the first landing, Brianne looked over the desk at me and asked, "what's going on?" I told her I had no idea, but we must have "someone" to thank for the mysterious help. Where it took us 15 minutes to get up those first four steps, it took us only one minute to go from the fourth step, up 6 more to the landing and up another 6 to the second floor, down the hall and to its place on the wall at the bottom of the next set of stairs. In retrospect, Brianne wondered if we just found some inner strength in the middle of the moment. Drew had witnessed our struggle at the beginning followed by the ease with which the desk finally made it to its final resting place. I didn’t know what to tell Drew when he, too, asked why it suddenly moved with such effortlessness. Was it our own inner strength or did we have “someone” to thank?