Julie's Treasure

I weep as I look into the dark closet. The pink patterned cotton fabric, sitting at the bottom, is now tinged with a purple stain. My most prized possession is ruined. How? How could this have happened? I start to think to myself. Just as I turn to walk out of the wooden-framed walkway, I see a small child in the distance with ponds in the bed of her eyes. “I’m so sorry!” she babbles through her sobs. “What happened?” I questioned with wrinkles forming from the top of my head and working their way down. Her head dropped as she began to untie the shirt from around her stubby neck. The young first grader had been using my tiny pale pink treasure as a cape, like she did with most of our fabrics around the house, when she tripped over the shaggy square covering the entryway of the living room floor, and tipped over a cup of grape juice. Observing the content closely I noticed the black and green splotches surfacing from the cotton throughout the residue. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked with misery. “You never use it anymore so I thought it would be okay, it was the perfect size for a cape! All of my shirts are to small for me too fly!” I couldn’t help but scuff when she declared her story. Admiring her innocence I decided what was the best thing to do. So, I grabbed a pair of conjoined blades, stuck my fingers through the appropriate holes, and chopped off the moldy residue from the fabric. Fitting it around her neck, I tied it in a knot and smiled as she screamed with glee. My treasured baby blanket would forever be a memory, but had become a new treasure, Julie’s treasure.