My luck, fair readers, has been particularly awful in the past few months. I keep looking back, trying to think of all the awful things I have done in my life. Cars I have cut off at intersections; bums who I have refused change to; tourists who I refuse to stop walking so they can take their pictures on Michigan Ave. Is it all coming home to roost?
Today, while cleaning my apartment, I decided to bring down some empty boxes that are still remaining, doing nothing, from my move about a month or so back. I walked down to my naively unlocked storage area to find, low and behold, my bin of Christmas items, was no longer there.
I checked around, just to see if perhaps someone had moved it. I’m not even sure why I did that. I then realized, stunned, that someone had stolen my bin of old, crappy Christmas ornaments that are of absolutely no value to anyone but me. An ornament from Western Michigan University’s bookstore that I received upon graduating with my English degree. An insanely tacky silver and white sparkly ornanment that simply reads “2002”. A year of really no significance in my life. A box of glass Santas doing various tasks like fishing and sun bathing. A gift from my Father one Christmas that everyone expected me to hate but I really actually loved. And most importantly, a stocking, sewn by my mother when my sister and I were little girls. It’s green fabric, with little red strawberries dotted all over. The toe is too pointy. It’s perfectly imperfect.
And now they are all gone.
I keep wondering what this person will do with my crappy Christmas ornaments. Sell them on Ebay? Probably not, considering a vast majority of those items were bought at places like Michael’s craft store. 3 boxes of ornaments for $10. My guess is that if my little note does not guilt the person into returning these items, they will end up in a trash bin. Thrown away because those items could not mean anything to anyone except me and the members of my family.
I have always believed that humans are fundamentally good. Many idiots. But with decent intentions, none the less. However in the past few weeks, I just feel like I do not understand people as a whole. What possesses people to do these little things that considering world affairs, don’t mean much. I am alive. I have a job. I have the people I love. I have my health.
But what don’t I have?
One strawberry stocking, poorly made, but made with love none the less.