Tonight, Joe came into the kitchen while I was fixing supper, toting his 'benkie', an old hospital swaddling blanket made of the softest, smoothest flannel I have ever touched. I turned to the sink for a moment, then heard a wail:
"My benkie broking!"
He had tossed it into the air, and part of it had landed on the stove, burning two holes in it.
My heart nearly stopped at the thought of his favorite blanket nearly going up in flames. Having favorite blankets for every season of my life, I know the grief associated with the need to give one up. That is a grief I hope he won't need to face for quite a while yet.
After supper, I took it downstairs, cut out the charred areas, and patched the blanket with a couple pieces of (sadly, lesser quality) green flannel. When I handed the repaired blanket back to Joe, he was ecstatic.
1 comment:
Wow! I'm glad "all's well that ends well"! Ma
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