Going through my sister’s keepsakes

Marnie was killed when she was 4, right before kindergarten started. Packed away was her first day of school dress and little Maryjane’s and a hanky with a dime knotted in the corner for her milk money.

She was a terrible color-er and loved the color orange. She has a little steno book where she had spent probably six months wavering between printing her name and doing that pre-writing scribble.

My mother packed away her little toothbrush, her little nightgown and the little jeans she was wearing, along with the little treasures she kept in her pocket—a Bazooka comic from some bubble gum, a button and a pretty rock.

Of all the cards that touched me, the one from her Sunday School teacher just brought me to tears. Miss Lili wrote several pages, talking about the little girl that was here all too briefly.

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