We have a large, cylindrical basket by our fireplace which holds firewood. And we have another wonderful basket, perhaps a half-bushel in size, which was given to us by friends. It is hand-woven and crafted by a 92-year-old man who cut the tree, shaved off the strips, soaked them, and then created this lovely container; solid and stable, a treasure. I have a bread-basket; dainty, finely woven, and perfect - fashioned by a cultured, saintly woman in a church I served as pastor. Another everyday basket that now holds onions, potatoes, or whatever, came to us filled with fresh Georgia peaches.There are baskets all over the house; some given to us by children, others by friends. They came to us empty, or sometimes filled with jelly, homemade bread, or some other thoughtful gift. In nearly ever…