72, Falls Church, retired social worker
Her name is Morrissa. She is a troll doll. Her skin has darkened over the years. The heart on her yellow felt pinafore, once bright emerald green, has faded. But her open arms and engaging grin have remained constant.
She was named after Morris Stanley Poindexter, my ideal fantasy man. I am still awaiting his arrival.
Morrissa was a gift from my friend Lynn: one of those “no special occasion, just thinking of you” gifts. Morrissa’s arrival in my life had a spark of mystery to it. She was mailed to me in San Francisco from Chicago, but the package was postmarked Orem, Utah.
Lynn and I met in college. Our friendship has waxed and waned over the years. Geographic distance and misunderstanding that led to hurt feelings separated us for many years. Eventually we reconnected through a mutual friend and now exchange holiday and birthday cards and an occasional phone call. But for almost 50 years Morrissa has been by my bedside. I could get all philosophical about how I treasure her because, like Lynn, she embodies the spirit of giving, caring, small gestures of kindness and enduring friendship. That is all true, but the deeper truth is that her idiotic grin makes me happy.
Tell us about what you treasure and why: E-mail 250 words or fewer to WP Magazine. Please use “MINE” in the subject line, and include age, city and job.
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