She sits on the shelf in her pretty dress with a smile on her face.
Sometimes he takes her down and plays with her. He takes her with him when he goes in the mountains or to the horses. She loves that. It makes her so happy. At the end of the day, he always puts her back on her shelf.
Sometimes he takes her down and takes her to softball games or puts her next to him while he watches TV. She would like more, but she is grateful she is no longer on the shelf.
Others occasionally take her down, play with her, talk to her, ask her to play the piano or help them, and she is glad she is loved.
She hates sitting on the shelf. She wants nothing more than to climb down. By herself.
Be like the people she sees.
No matter how hard she tries, she can't. So she waits. And waits.
For someone else to love her.
She worries that the day will come when everyone forgets, and she stays on the shelf forever.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
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That's an interesting metaphor. You can come play at my house anytime. There's no shelf sitting at my place.ReplyDelete