Crumpled

My eyes dart around walking around the city. Things on my mind but today, I have time to spare. The extra time means my little mind, as intellectual as I want to believe it is, makes up stories to pass the time.

Little and brown, crumpled in a corner, a box lies. A brown paper box. Was it put there by a drug dealer? Maybe its filled with candy that a little snotty nose kid left as their Father was rushing to make the train. I have no clue who put it there but I walk over to it and move it with my foot. Crumpled, squishy, with a little hard spot in the middle. The top twisted inward just as you twist the flaps down to keep the box closed.

Attempting to open the box, I kneel down on the ground. Maybe its wet, maybe I'm just not meant to pick up this nasty thing. I ask myself "Self, why are you so invested in this box?". Its small, a little bit bigger then a 20 oz bottle. Getting closer, my heart beats fast. "Stop!", I tell myself and try to think about some good things that could possibly be in this little crumpled mess of a box. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, a child's little toy. A wooden toy that their great great grandmother passed down. That is actually sad, but bright side I could spend the next few years searching for clues to find this child to bring a smile back to the child's face.

I tend to have such a wild imagination, but thank goodness its only when I have down time. Takes me away from the hustle & bustle of the fastness of my life. My boring life that is one long lifeless train ride. I promise you, you really should not take me so serious. I do tend to exaggerate, a lot. What is not embellished is this gross little box. I do wish someone could just pull me away from this corner. I just stare at this crumpled heap and people are now started to stop. I imagine they see the worry on my face, jokes on them. If the bystanders actually knew this was nothing but discarded paper box they would most likely roll their eyes and think I am crazy.

Crazy, you can at times say we are all crazy. Just like this crumpled little brown paper box, we all have times were we are just as wrinkled, withered, and want someone to toss us in the rubbish bin. We at those times wish someone would make up elaborate stories about our life just to escape our mundane lives. My life is comfortable, but you have to be honest we all feel frumpy sometimes.

I close my eyes and slowly pick up the brown old box. I hear a voice "thank you I thought I lost it forever". I open my eyes and see a little elderly man, adorable but dirty. I do not like to assume but he must be living in the streets. I reach my hand out and with a smile he takes the bag from mine. With tear in his eyes he held the crumpled little box against his heart and tells me I am an angel. He opens the box and at this point I have unsettling feeling in my stomach, butterflies you could say.

Butterflies turned to elation when the contents of this little brown crumpled box where out of its shell. A hundred dollars crumpled but neatly stacked in different denominations, a silver bracelet engraved, old military ID, and photo of a beautiful woman. See while I was making up stories about what item was in the box, I failed to see it for what it was. This little crumpled box, this beautiful box contained this mans entire life savings, the last picture of his deceased wife, his ID card, and his best friends memorial bracelet from Vietnam.

Our lives are made of memories and we do not need so much materiel stuff to remember what we go through. Just as this man showed me all we need is a small space to hold our memories. We do not need a big house or fancy cars to keep us going. They may be nice, but its not what in the end will keep us happy. All we need is a sweet small little paper box to hold what we call dear to us. Love life and the people in it. Now go find your box and fill it with your memories then hold close and only pray that you one day will have a crumpled old brown paper box.