It was Molly's job to hand her father his brown-paper lunch bag each morning before he headed off to work. One morning, in addition to his usual lunch bag, Molly handed him a second paper bag. This one was worn and held together with duct tape, staples, and paperclips.
"Why two bags?" the dad asked. "The
other is something else," Molly answered. "What's in it?" "Just some stuff. Take it with you." Not wanting to hold court over the matter, he stuffed both sacks into his briefcase, kissed Molly, and rushed off.
At midday, while hurriedly scarfing down his real lunch, he tore open Molly's bag and shook out the contents: two hair ribbons, three small stones, a plastic dinosaur, a pencil stub, a tiny seashell, two animal crackers, a marble, a used lipstick, a small doll, two
chocolate kisses, and 13 pennies. the father smiled, finished eating, and swept the desk clean -- into the wastebasket -- left over lunch, Molly's junk and all.
That evening, Molly ran up behind him as he read the paper. "Where's my bag?" "What bag?" "You know, the one I gave you this morning." "I left it at the office. Why?" "I forgot to put this note in it,” she said. "And, besides, those are my things in the sack, Daddy, the ones I really like -- I thought you
might like to play with them, but now I want them back. You didn't lose the bag, did you, Daddy?"
"Oh, no," he said, lying. "I just forgot to bring it home. I’ll bring it home tomorrow."
While Molly hugged her father's neck, he unfolded the note that had not made it into the sack: "I love you, Daddy." Molly had given him her treasures, all that a seven-year-old held dear. Love in a paper sack and he missed it -- not only missed it but had thrown it in the
wastebasket. So, he went back to the office.
Just ahead of the night janitor, he picked up the wastebasket and poured the contents on his desk. After washing the mustard off the dinosaur, and spraying the whole thing with breath freshener to kill the smell of onions, he carefully smoothed the wadded ball of brown paper, put the treasures inside and carried it home gingerly, like an injured kitten. The bag didn't look so good, but all the stuff was there and that's what
counted.
After dinner, he asked Molly to tell him about the stuff in the sack. It took a long time to tell. Everything had a story, or a memory, or was attached to dreams and imaginary friends. Fairies had brought some of the things. He had given her the chocolate kisses and she had kept them for when she needed them.
Think of all the times in this sweet life, when you may have missed the affection someone was trying to give you.
It's sometimes called: standing knee deep in the river and dying of thirst." A child's smile, the dinosaurs and chocolate kisses wrapped in old paper bags that you throw away thoughtlessly, even though each is a tiny treasure.
