Hidden in a home far from my own, a treasure lay buried, waiting to be uncovered, waiting to be rescued. The day it was discovered, the treasure pleaded not to be discarded.
My friend heard that plea and lifted the treasure in both arms. She knew how I had hid my own treasures, how I polished them in secret over the years. She had heard stories where I reminisced over lost treasures. In her heart, she sensed the treasure in her arms would fill the void of my lost treasures.
She loaded up the treasure and brought it to me, keeping it warm with an beautiful, old wool blanket.
The treasure lay on my desk, out of breath. It needed time to adjust to its new home.
One warm, sunny day, I took it outside for its first bath. Compressed air pushed cobwebs out. Tweezers pulled out twigs and craft supplies. I brought it back in just as raindrops started to fall and laid it down to rest on my desk. Time for it to rest up and catch its breath.