20 Years Ago on FITK

The Little Box

I was helping a dear friend (and her sister) sort out their late father’s mementos the other day—going through photos, tapes, scrapbooks—looking for items that I could make copies of for them. It was a bittersweet party, each of us has good memories of him, and seeing pictures of him as he changed through the years was, by turns, funny, poignant, and sad.

There was a small box in with these mementos, perhaps it held a set of earrings or a ring at one time. His name was scrawled on the bottom of it along with that of this boyhood hometown. As I opened it I saw a tiny velvet bag inside. I overturned the bag into my palm and a small glass marble rolled out. I was struck with a realization that this object was the distilled essence of his childhood: one marble, in a velvet bag, in a little box.