The Secret

When I was a little girl, maybe 6, 7 or 8, I had a white canopy bed. My sheets and pillowcase had tiny yellow, pink and blue flowers on them. I loved that pillowcase. So much so that over the years, despite whatever happened to that canopy bed and the sheets, I kept the pillowcase.

I can't honestly remember when I stopped using it or how I got it from home to college to Texas so many years ago, but I still have it. It's threadbare now, with only the trim showing signs of those little flowers. Because it's so worn it's almost satiny and it's ripped about 2/3 of the way around, but it always seems cool and it smells like baby powder.

So the other night, after the kids were in bed and asleep (I thought), Sam came padding into my room. He was thinking about zombies and didn't want to go to sleep. We talked for awhile about dreams and nightmares and eventually the conversation came around to his lovey, the blue blanket we call Woo, and my pillowcase. After he calmed down and was ready for bed, I tucked him in, went back to my room and dug out the pillowcase. I gave it to him to sleep with.

Last night while Sam was waiting for the bathroom he said, "I know the secret to happiness." Having come off a particularly rough 45 minutes, I said, "Please, do tell."

"It's when someone you love very much gives you something they love very much," and he held up my pillowcase.

He just may be right.

(Incidentally I found the flat sheet that matched my pillowcase on Etsy today and bought it.)