The Box

I have a box.

It's not very intimidating like Davey Jone's Chest. It's not sparkely or even colorful. It's just a box. A plain old, normal, so-dark-blue-almost-black, cardboard shoebox. And that's it. No one would argue that it is a very boring box.

Then you open it.

And you realize that this unordinary box is extraordinary because of the ridiculous amount of junk it holds. I'll agree that this boring box of mine holds junk, and only junk.

Unless you happen to be me. And if you're me, suddenly the bits of scrap paper and other items hold alot more value.

In my box, I have birthday cards from when I was 12 years old, maybe younger. I have funny cards, beautiful cards, handmade cards, and so many other types of cards bearing good wishes and the names of my friends and family.

In my box, I have letters. Letters from a friend I met when I was probably around 9 or 10 and haven't heard from in years. Notes from people I've met in 4-H that I hardly see or will ever see again. Get well letters from a baby sister who couldn't be more than 5.

Inside my box, I store away ideas. Written on and drawn out on scraps of paper, stories I didn't feel were bad enough to throw away and dreams that were worth saving. Childish schemes and teenaged musing, all jumbled together.

My box holds dozens of the cheap "buy one box, get eighteen cards" Valentines from my club members.

My box keeps art done by my family and friends safe from being lost or misplaced.

This humble box holds my room key from my first State 4-H Conference.

It carries ribbons from fairs and contests long gone.

There's a page of Halloween stickers in there, sent to me by a friend.

A message in a bottle, inviting me to my very first school dance, stays stowed away safe inside plain cardboard.

Maps from trips to Disneyland find a home in this box.

My name tag from my first event as a State Ambassador.

A note from my dad that I will never grow tired of reading.

So many things, with so many memories attatched like poststamps.

I have a box.
There is nothing special about my box.
It's worthless.
It's what's inside that is priceless.