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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The other day while rummaging in a closet I was instantly overcome with joy when I ran across our storage bins filled with our children’s once used toys. Toys our children and grandchildren played with when they were young and new… Toys that don’t grow up…like children and grandchildren do A set of nesting cups for the bathtub, noise makers and little bouncing balls plastic telephones where every child made imaginary calls. Toys that at one time were their favorites… toys they once adored. Toys that served their purpose but don’t get played with anymore. A bunch of bendy action figures…which much to our elation our children and grandchildren used… to fuel their imaginations. Those thick little baby books, a stuffed doggie, soft and brown wooden blocks with painted letters they'd stack up… then knock down. As I picked up a plastic microphone and a bunch of different tiny cars I thought how every toy inside these bins are part of who they are. Because each of these toys was special once… because each had their own heyday there’s no way we could ever throw them out… no way we'll ever give them away. So they live in quiet comfort… who knows… we may live to see the day when great great grandchildren come to visit… who will no doubt want to play. “Hey I remember playing with this when I was your age!” We imagine their parents will say and we’ll sit back and we'll smile as we watch a new generation at play… I imagine there are toys like these in closets all across the USA… quietly resting in bins of their own… patiently awaiting that day.n… patiently waiting for that day.
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