Ms Knox sat in a box with all her memories.
She wallowed in them and was distraught,
because that was all she ever thought.
Nothing good or bad ever happens to me,
because I live in this box of memories.
If I let them out of the box, they will escape and surely get lost.
A little boy came by and asked her, “Why?
Do memories usually fly?”
He whispered in her ear “Maybe someone would find them,
someone who would care.
They might come down like pouring rain,
refresh you and take away the pain.
You will always have them in your heart,
forever and a day.
It’s not like you are throwing them away.
If you let the laughter out,
you will hear it in the meadows and hills and all about.
The memories will shine in the sky and sit on the moon,
and you might hear them sing a merry tune.
If you keep them locked in your box,
You will regret it, Ms Knox.”
This boy was wise beyond his seven years.
And she began to cry a river of tears.
Ms Knox gently took off the lid.
and memories swirled all around, like she knew they would.
“Look,” he said, “there he is teaching me to ride my bike.
Over there, he’s taking my brother on a hike.
His laughter echoes through the small town
as each memory lands and one is found.
Her memories are everywhere,
for all who knew him to share.”
Ms Knox gets out of her box.
She asked the boy,
“What should I do?
I am lost and somewhat blue.”
The boy said, “We will make a new memory.
I will burp the ABC’s for you.”
So Ms Knox put the new memory in her box.
She did not sit in the box.
She did not put the lid on tight,
She would let this memory out and let it take flight
The boy had taught her that memories are made,
not to be forgotten
but to pass on to the good and the rotten,
the young and the old,
the tame and the bold.
Ms Knox is out of her box.
That is where she will stay
so she can make new memories day after day after day.