My Treasure Box

In third grade, on Christmas Eve, our doorbell rang. At the door was the uncle of Jimmy M, my first crush. He handed me a little floral-printed tin box filled with candy. I was thrilled! I had loved Jimmy since the first day of Kindergarten and figured that my life was now complete. My crush eventually faded, but I kept the little tin box. I christened it my Treasure Box, and stored my most special items in it. I found the box recently, and decided to chronicle its contents:

• 2 handmade trolls, also from that same special Christmas of third grade 
• 4 swimming ribbons from 1965, my one and only summer on a swim team. Two were first place (relay), one was third place, and one was fourth place. My second place ribbon went in my dad’s coffin, as I was the most proud of it (an individual event) and had earned it on Dad’s birthday. 
• cast pass from 1965 when I danced as a toy soldier in The Nutcracker 
• 2 hospital bracelets from 1966 (broken arm and some weird stomach flu) 
• a silver bullet from meeting Clayton Moore, TV’s Lone Ranger 
• some Catholic stuff: a broken rosary, a little blue rosary I got in first grade (blessed by Pope John XXIII), and a scapular (in my mind, the most bizarre of Catholic accouterments) 
• 4 little sheets of paper with my work and education history up to my marriage in 1977. I used to carry this list in my wallet, to help filling out job applications. It’s hard to believe I had ever worked for $1.35 an hour. It would have taken me 4 hours to earn enough to buy a large, vanilla latte (had lattes been invented then). 

I know my true treasures are my husband, son and daughter. I cherish them in my heart, though, since I doubt they would fit in my little tin Treasure Box.