A young woman tells how a little white oak basket that her grandmother used years ago to gather eggs carries memories that tie three generations together. The basket moved to town with the family when her mama was a child, to hold a miscellany of things useful, delicious, or beautiful--peaches, potholders, scissors, roses. After it's lost when Grandmother moves again, ""to an apartment above my daddy's store,"" Grandmother imagines the basket as a repository of everything that seems to be missing, from stickers for her photo album to a gardening tool. But after her death, the basket is found in her old trunk--containing just a spool of thread. Lyon's nicely cadenced, quietly allusive text--poetically evoking generations of productive, nurturing women--outshines Szilagyi's rather prosaic illustrations with their sturdy forms and glowing colors. Children may enjoy comparing this to Galbraith's Laura Charlotte (p. 263/C-43).