Mary’s pouch

Among the many objects scattered throughout the stall, my gaze had landed on a vintage clutch. In blue damask leather, soft to the touch and with a shiny flower-shaped brooch as an automatic closure.

«It’s beautiful, isn’t it, Miss?” You take it, take a close look at it. I managed to keep it well and as a note it is not damaged. Think, I loved wearing it to enrich an elegant dress or for special events.»

«That’s wonderful! It’s yours! I didn’t imagine, everything I see belongs to you Madam? There are so many beautiful objects on display, I love vintage because I find in it a class of the past, in fact. Also knowing that they belonged to someone else… like this clutch bag of hers… is invaluable to me. I can imagine when you wore it, I project myself into a precious time that did not belong to me but that perhaps I could revive and you don’t mind selling them?»

«No, why should it? I am not tied to the materiality of these objects, but to the memories of the emotions I felt by owning them. I like the idea of sharing them, it is a way to give them continuity, to give the right value to the material in relation to time. Otherwise they would be forgotten or thrown away.»

«I understand what you mean and yours is a thought full of love, for the good things in life. I think this clutch bag is perfect for me, I’ll buy it Mrs… can I ask you your name?»

«My name is Mary dear and the clutch bag is your, it’s my present to you… it couldn’t find a better keeper. Please continue to fill it with memories! In the end, that’s what’s left to each of us. ”

I accept that wonderful gift and while greeting Mary, I realize I have already inserted a first memory inside my new clutch. The words of this tender lady would have resounded in my mind for a long time like a lovable echo, hard to forget.

I had a jewel in my hands and the best thing was that no one else, except me and Mary, could know.

The real value of things is hidden between the lines of our feelings.