One of the longest-recognized symbols of the Thanksgiving holiday is the cornucopia, a horn-shaped container overflowing with foods like produce and nuts, as well as flowers and other plants. A symbol of abundance, the cornucopia, or ‘horn of plenty,’ has come to represent the bountiful gifts of nature, harvested and enjoyed by humanity.

In the ancient world, the cornucopia was called ‘the horn of Amalthea,’ after a nurse of Zeus, father of the gods. According to Greek mythology, as a baby, Zeus was playing with Amalthea and accidentally broke off one of her horns, rendering it with the power of eternal nourishment. And in both Europe and Asia, the cornucopia was used to carry newly harvested fruits and vegetables. The harvester would sling the basket across his or her torso, or wear it on his or her back, leaving hands free to pick the food in the fields and orchards.

References to the cornucopia can be found in the Bible; in the book of Job, Job’s daughter was named Amaltheias Karas, a nod to the word’s ancient Greek roots. The use of the name ‘Amaltheias’ would have identified Job’s daughter as both virtuous and beautiful.

Today, we usually think of the cornucopia as being hollow and made of wicker, thanks mostly to its appearance in works of art from the ancient world to the 19th century.

“Thanks to its appearances in artwork that portrayed pastoral abundance, the cornucopia became a symbol of the harvest season, and its image morphed from its origin as an actual horn to just a horn-shaped basket,” according to a 2015 article in Atlas Obscura.

“It also became a more common physical artifact found at harvest festivals.”
Besides being associated with a bountiful harvest and the Thanksgiving holiday, it also appears on several state flags throughout North America and other countries around the globe.

“Two cornucopias are seen in the flag and state seal of Idaho. The Great Seal of North Carolina depicts Liberty standing and Plenty holding a cornucopia. The coats of arms of Colombia, Panama, Peru, Venezuela, Victoria, Australia, and Kharkiv, Ukraine, also feature the cornucopia, symbolizing prosperity,” the same article notes.

The cornucopia can also be found in works of literature, the most modern being in the dystopian young adult series “The Hunger Games.”

At the Pilgrim House on the Bluff, customers tend to come for the wide variety of items for sale, but they stay for the stunning view.
Cynda Zeigler says it’s one of the biggest draws to her store, nestled inside her home in Shawnee, KS – a cozy house built in 2000 that sits 100 feet above the Colorado River Valley. As for the store itself, Ziegler says she’s proud to be an antiques dealer for four decades.

“My dad had furniture stores in Kansas City, and he had two of them named Pilgrim House. And so when he closed the store down, I took his name, and I’ve had it for 40 years,” Zeigler says.

Recently, though she has enjoyed selling handmade clothing and jewelry, she says that she intends to place more of a focus on buying and selling antiques, both from North America and Europe.

“In the beginning, we started out in oak furniture, and my husband would refinish everything. But now everything that I buy is 100 to 200 years old, and it’s got original paint and original surfaces,” Zeigler says. “And so I don’t change anything or touch anything. I want it all original. I’m kind of a purist.”

At the Pilgrim House on the Bluff, customers tend to come for the wide variety of items for sale, but they stay for the stunning view.
Cynda Zeigler says it’s one of the biggest draws to her store, nestled inside her home in Shawnee, KS – a cozy house built in 2000 that sits 100 feet above the Kaw River Valley. As for the store itself, Zeigler says she’s proud to be an antiques dealer for four decades.

“My dad had furniture stores in Kansas City, and he had two of them named Pilgrim House. And so when he closed the store down, I took his name, and I’ve had it for 40 years,” Zeigler says.

Recently, though she has enjoyed selling handmade clothing and jewelry, she says that she intends to place more of a focus on buying and selling antiques, both from North America and Europe.

“In the beginning, we started out in oak furniture, and my husband would refinish everything. But now everything that I buy is 100 to 200 years old, and it’s got original paint and original surfaces,” Zeigler says. “And so I don’t change anything or touch anything. I want it all original. I’m kind of a purist.”

Zeigler refers to her antique hunting trips around the country as ‘sourcing’ – and soon she and her sister will cross an ocean in search of the perfect items when they visit France in the spring.

“You can still find primitive antiques in Europe. But I think that they’re just older and they’re earlier,” Zeigler says.

Here at home, Zeigler says she never grows tired of the compliments she receives not only on her diverse offering of items, but on her house as well.

When he retired from the U.S. Air Force, Chet Lindstrom knew it was time for something new … so he turned to things that were old.

Having served in the military for three decades, Chet now faced navigating the transition from military to civilian life. When his wife Katrina suggested he find something that sparked his passion and gave him a renewed sense of purpose, it didn’t take Chet very long to find that passion in the world of antiques.

Now, the Lindstroms want to share that love of gently used items from yesteryear in the newly opened Andrew County Antique Mall, 1102 S. U.S. Highway 71 in Savannah, MO.

The journey that weaved its way to the Lindstroms’ new storefront began with Chet’s own discovery of the joys of antique collecting – and all of the people who would help him nurture that joy.

“He found himself utterly enchanted by the sheer depth of history each piece represented – the silent whispers of bygone eras, the intricate craftsmanship of forgotten artisans, and the compelling stories interwoven into their very fabric,” Katrina says of Chet. “Beyond the thrill of the hunt and the acquisition of unique items, Chet discovered immense satisfaction in the camaraderie shared with fellow enthusiasts and the vibrant community that embraced this passion. What began as a mere hobby swiftly blossomed into a profound, all-consuming passion, compelling him to meticulously curate an extensive and truly remarkable personal collection.”

But more important than that collection he amassed were the friendships he forged. Eventually, according to Katrina, Chet faced a question – could he transition from collecting to building a place where others could find and pursue that same passion?

“As his inventory grew, a pivotal moment arrived. Chet faced a choice: continue as a successful independent dealer, or embrace a larger vision,” Katrina says. “We realized that his greatest joy stemmed not just from finding and selling, but from forging meaningful connections – connecting people with tangible pieces of history and fostering a genuine sense of community among those who shared his appreciation for the past.”

It didn’t take the Lindstroms long to find the perfect venue for their vision. The building that houses the new antique mall is known as a local landmark, and Katrina says it even holds a bit of family history.

“The selection of our building carries its own special resonance. It boasts a venerable history within the community, having served as a local landmark for generations,” Katrina says. “What made it feel truly destined, however, was the serendipitous discovery that my own grandmother had worked within its walls decades ago. This deeply personal connection, intertwining our family history with the building's rich legacy, cemented our belief that this was the perfect, indeed the only, home for our new venture.”

When I was in middle school, one of my hobbies was creating murals. I’d get some poster board and spend hours combing through old magazines, looking for people, places, and things that caught my eye. Wielding a pair of scissors that glided through each magazine’s glossy pages, I’d glue the images to the poster board, creating a colorful mishmash of my interests. I’ve never been an artistic person like my father, but those murals were a fun form of self-expression.

Now, in adulthood, I know that junk journals fill that same need, but also a greater need of preserving glimpses of the past in the forms of ephemera (printed materials meant to eventually be thrown away) such as those same magazines, photographs, brochures, notes, sheet music, movie or concert ticket stubs, train or airplane ticket stubs, and more.

If you’re unfamiliar with them, a junk journal is a notebook made with recycled materials that include the above-mentioned materials, as well as small items such as buttons, dried flower petals, and scraps of fabric. Like regular scrapbooks, you can embellish the pages of your journal with packets of stickers, ribbons, stamps, and other items usually sold on scrapbooking websites.

Blogger Wendy Sy writes that the appeal of a junk journal can lie in making it a space where you envision your goals – sort of like a vision board – or it can be a place where you preserve the past. Your junk journal doesn’t even have to be tailored to you, either – maybe it chronicles a relationship with a longtime friend or romantic partner.

“I like to think of a junk journal as a mini time machine,” Sy writes on stylemeetsstory.com. “Once you create one, you can flip through the pages and be transported back to the emotions you felt on your first date, or various mementos of that unforgettable trip you took to Paris.”

And, much like a traditional journal, your homemade keepsake can contain your thoughts, emotions, and even inspirational quotes. Still, Sy recommends that the visual elements should take center stage.

“Whether or not to write in your junk journal pages is completely up to your preference. The beauty of this project is that there’s no right way to do it,” she says. “Lots of people add their own words or favorite quotes on the pages to add a more personal feel, capturing memories and feelings. But you can also focus solely on the photos and decor since junk journals are visual books.”

It’s always a delight to read about the first baby of the new year born in your city, state or region – a practice that has been tradition with local news sources until recent years. A symbol of a new year – and with it, hope, health, and prosperity – you might see babies clad in a diaper, top hat, and sash representing a new year in media or antique collectibles, usually accompanied by an old man known as Father Time, who symbolizes the end of the previous year with the passage of time.

Depictions of Baby New Year and Father Time have existed since long before the antique collectibles on which they appear. Like many of our modern-day traditions, they began in the ancient world; back then, however, they weren’t yet linked to the beginning of a new year but to the changing of the seasons instead. In ancient Greece, the baby symbolized the end of winter, the start of the springtime harvest season, and the resurrection of Dionysus, Greek god of wine, vegetation, and fertility, according to a 2024 article by Elizabeth Yuko on readersdigest.com.

Out with the old, in with the new

Yuko writes that the elderly, white-bearded image of Father Time is most likely drawn from Chronos, the Greek god of time, or the Roman god Saturn. Like Father Time, each was often depicted carrying a scythe, like the Grim Reaper. But (Prof. Daniel Compora of the University of Toledo) says that Father Time may have also been inspired by the two-faced Roman God Janus, who represented beginnings and endings, as well as life and death.” In many renderings, Father Time wields a scythe, itself a symbol of “the endurance of time, which eventually will ‘cut down’ all living things. In some of these renderings, too, he hands over an hourglass (and thus, his duties and responsibilities) to Baby New Year.

The image of these two characters came to the U.S. during the Victorian Era by German immigrants. Innovations in printing during the Industrial Revolution allowed for those images to be spread quickly and to a much wider audience.

“The image and concept of Baby New Year became more widespread in both Europe and the United States during the Victorian era, thanks to the massive popularity of greeting cards and postcards,” Yuko writes. “Advancements in printing technology meant that colorful illustrations could be mass-produced. In addition to Christmas cards, people sent cards to wish others luck in the new year -- many of which were adorned with pictures of Baby New Year, sometimes alongside Father Time.”