I wrote this in 2018 and came across it today. I like it. I hope you do too. ❤
Sorting through that bookshelf, all I intended to do was to gather a few books to donate when I saw it. The Box of Memories. The box was something that I had found in an antique store. The box had been carefully hand made and at one time was someone’s treasure. It was battered and aged, but had it’s own beauty and I had to have it.
I pulled the box down and wiped the dust off the top. After opening the lid, I lifted an old photo out of the box and looked at it. It was curled and yellow with age. I couldn’t remember the last time that I looked through The Box of Memories. Years. The picture of my oldest brother, taken just after High School. He was ready to take on the world. A slight smile played at the corners of his mouth. He looked out…
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