Priceless
Christmas 2007
Though it was broken, she treated it as though it was nothing less than priceless. For after all – it was.
Trudy wouldn’t say why she had left home. The most she ever surrendered was said one evening as she ran her finger across the sharp edges of her sacred keepsake – “You can only get so broken and still be worth something.” Enough said.
A Christmas ornament. An ordinary round, red ball and hook, hanging from her worn napsack.