Brookings resident Carl Kline is an ordained clergyman, part-time teacher and occasional blogger.

After several years in campus ministry at SDSU, I was given the opportunity for a leave of absence. It enabled me to do some things there simply wasn’t time to do before. Ministry can be a 24-hour job. Not that you’re busy all the time, but one never knows when the phone will ring with some other’s need. Sometimes you eat your breakfast quickly on Saturday morning, so you can leave for a day of leisure with your wife without interruption (no cell phones then).

One new venture for the two of us during those few months of my leave was auctions. They were listed in the paper each week and in those days there were several to choose from. I recall at one of them buying this jar of marbles. Some of the marbles were antique, hand blown, and others that were machine made had all the colors of the rainbow, and more. I was fascinated by these little circles of glass art. Little did I know at the time, that jar would be the beginning of a collection craze, that would grow into something complex and consuming. There are so many marble materials, makers, designs and values. You need a pile of books to understand who made them, and when, and how much they are worth. Today they fill a thread cabinet, a display case and a bookcase shelf in our living room.

Then it was buttons. If there wasn’t a jar of marbles, there might be one of buttons. Every grandmother kept a jar, ready to sew a new one on the grandkid’s coat. I realized the buttons were small, like marbles, and wouldn’t take up much room. Many of them were tiny works of art. There were beautiful, elaborate designs in buttons made from shell; small paintings under glass from the 1920s; beautiful bakelite buttons shining in the sunlight. Gradually, as I bid on these auction finds, my understanding also grew more complex; so many materials, makers, designs and values. I began to “card” them, like authentic button collectors, 30 or more to a 8 1/2 by 11 cardboard backing. I went to button shows and joined the National Button Society. Fooling around with these things, I discovered, was a welcome relief from my 24-hour ministry commitment to people and problems.

And then it was books! Leaving campus ministry at SDSU, I had more books than I knew what to do with. So I had a book give-away. I filled two large tables from my shelves and invited folks going through our campus ministry center to take them. Within the week they were all gone. Of course, after leaving campus ministry, the shelves at home began to fill again. When nine shelving units were full, one in the office that meant walking sideways through a doorway and another blocking heat to the room, I decided to down-size once more. Four large boxes of books disappeared at a give-away at the church and more were donated to the public library for their book sale. That library sale was, and is, a problem though. I always come home with more. How can you go wrong with $2 for hard covers and $1 for a paperback.

My life as a “collector” has made me appreciative of small art and artistic authors. Many marbles, especially those hand blown antique marbles, are small works of art. Coloring can be remarkable, as small threads of different colors slide in waves through the surrounding glass. And looking at hand-painted scenes under glass on an old button, one marvels at the artistry and delicate hand of the maker. And books? They can help you visit times and places you will never experience otherwise, and can educate and uplift you with new knowledge and spiritual sustenance.

In earlier years my focus was entirely on “persons.” I couldn’t have cared less about what I wore or owned. “Things” were secondary in importance, if they had a place at all; other than as a functional necessity, like being able to button up my coat to ward off the cold. I believe I have learned since that “things” can impact and add to the good life, especially if they are artistic things rendered by creative human hands and minds. A focus on truth in life and relationships needs a companion to be whole; beauty plays its part!