My wife brought home a trinket, and I remembered something long forgotten.
The family gathered, and we went out back.
50 years ago I buried a box.
My boys dug it up and laid it before me. I opened it and
was flooded with memories.
My family fussed over the contents, but I held onto a small
I was ten years old when it was given to me.
My heart warmed, and a smile spread across my face.
We sat under our old maple tree as I told stories of my grandfather.