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  • A tall, refined gentleman arrived at the counter (of the consignment shop) holding my miniature set of leatherbound foreign language dictionaries. I squealed, gleeful and loud, beaming like a schoolgirl.

    "They're mine! I love my little dictionaries! I'm so glad you're buying them! Are they for you or a gift?!"

    "They are for me. Why are you selling them if you love them so much?"

    "Ohhh...ya know....I've had them for about twenty-five years. I love them, but it is time for someone else to enjoy them." time I saw my next door neighbor's life go out a window, down a chute and into a dumpster. Once I saw that...well...I'm determined to whittle down my life to a few small boxes of truly personal some strange contractor doesn't throw away all of my little loves. I'd rather do that myself. There is no one to clean up after me once I am gone.

    "I am going to read them every day."

    He didn't crack a smile when he said it. He was so serious I burst out laughing.

    "OK! Promise?! Next time you come in you have to teach me a new word!"

    He left the store smiling and he left me behind the counter with a big grin.


    A few weeks later a tall, refined gentleman arrived at the counter with an argyle sweater vest. I smiled to suited him. I started ringing him up when he announced, "I am the man that bought your dictionaries!"

    I squealed, gleeful and loud, beaming like a schoolgirl.

    I raised a quick and pointed finger at him and shouted, "You have to teach me a new word!"

    He froze for a moment...serious as ever and then yelled,


    I yelled right back, "Okay!?"

    "It is butterfly in German."

    I smiled from the inside, out.

    "Thank you."

    I was blushing.

    "I won't forget."

    (I came home and pulled out my heart, glue sticks and scissors to create this colorful flash card...just to be certain. I can't wait to meet the person who wants it...and takes a little piece of me home to keep, somewhere safe.)
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