THE LITTLE SOCK BAG

Sunday morning is here, cold and dark. But the Christmas tree lights brighten up the yard, making it magical against the darkness.
Many years ago, many. When I was about one my Mother made a small sock bag. She embroidered on it three little socks, which bore the names, Gerry, Bud and Billie. I was suppose to be the keeper of the bag, I failed at my job. Following is a fantasy story of how I would like the saga of the little bag to end.



THE LITTLE SOCK BAG


The year was 1942. The mother sat at her treadle machine working furiously on the burlap material. After she finished sewing it together she turned it right side out and smiled. On one side of the bag was three little socks. All carefully embroidered in different colored thread. Above each sock was a name, Gerry, Bud and Billie. The Mother smiled to herself, lovingly running her hand over the little socks. She had made a sock bag for her three little children. So all the little socks could be put in there when they were dirty.

Without the lady even knowing the little sock bag was looking around. “This might be a good place to be,” she thought. A home with children. She had not even let the thought cross her mind she would be holding dirty socks. To tell the truth I don’t think she would have cared.

So that’s how the Munch sock bag came to be. The years rolled past, the children grew, the sock bag became obsolete. The children no longer used her. They tossed their socks willy nilly into the laundry basket. Finally the Mother took her down and lovingly put her away. There the poor little bag lay for years and years. Forgotten, discarded, no longer needed. From time to time you could her her sigh. She knew time was passing but did not know how long. Once in awhile the Mother would take her out and sigh herself. Remembering when the children were home and needed her. They both felt like they had been outgrown.

Then one day the drawer opened, the paper holding her was unwrapped. The Mother gently took her out. The little bag heard the Mother speak. “Here Billie ,” she said. “You can have the old sock bag now. Please keep it safe.” The little bag looked in utter amazement at the grown lady that reached out her hand and took the bag. This is Billie,” she thought. The baby all grown up. Billie smiled and happily took the little bag. “Thanks Mother,” she said delighted. I will treasure it always. The little bag was singing. She would be needed again. She was going home with Billie. Of course neither her nor Billie knew the trouble that lay in store for them both. If they had I'm sure they both would have cried. So for the next few years the little bag was happy just to be with one of the children. Her Billie. She was happy again. But the happiness ended one day. Trouble came. Billie took her things, her son and the little bag and started out on a journey. Now the little bag couldn't’t understand why Billie felt the need to take them all and go. But she went although some of the places they traveled she did not care for at all. Then one day they all came home. But not back to the happy house, but to a dreary little house where they all was nervous at night. But then one day while Billie and the little boy was gone a very bad man came to the house and took the trunk the little bag and all other things the Mother had made. Stole them all. The little bag screamed, “No, no. I want to go back. But the mean man would not listen. He took her away and she cried. Billie came home and found all of these most treasured processions gone. She cried too.

The years passed and Billie would think of the little bag from time to time. But she never knew for all those years the little bag was doing all in her power to get back home. Then one day when Billie was much older she went with a friend to a auction. Boxes unopened sat awaiting to be auctioned off. Billie could not hear the little voice that kept calling out, “Pick my box Billie, pick me.” The auction started. Billie and her friend stood watching as the unopened boxes were sold. “Are you bidding,” the friend asked? Billie shook her head no. “I have far too much junk as it is.” But when the auctioneer set the one box up on a table Billie had a overpowering urge to bid. And she did, all the while not hearing the little voice, “Pick me, pick me.”

Needless to say Billie bought the box. Laughing to her friend she said, "Just what I needed more junk." After she arrived home she put away her purse, took off her shoes, sat down in her chair and opened the box. Her heart started racing, she could hardly breath. For right on the top was The little Sock Bag. All three little socks right there on the front of the bag. "Gerry, Bud and Billie."Billie started crying and I swear to you the little bag cried too. For at last she was finally home.

I'm leaving Blogland. I see one lonely star up in the sky. I make a wish. "Please little star," I whisper,. "Make my story come true. The part about the Little Bag coming home." But for now, I'm outta here.