Tuesday, April 8, 2014
When I was in 2nd grade, my mom purchased me a biauteful sweater. It was black and had bright pink and purple bows as the pattern. This was a very special sweater for two reasons: I am the youngest of 5 children and rarely got an article of clothing that wasn't a hand me down. And purple was my favorite color and this was the most awesome sweater I have ever owned. I wore this sweater everywhere. I loved it. So, when we went on vacation from Ohio to Williamsburg, VA, I obviously took the sweater with me. I wore it every morning when it was still chilly on that vacation. And one afternoon we went to this maze made of hedges. While trying to find our way out, I got hot and took my sweater off. I tied my sweater around my waist and kept going. Again, being the youngest I was kinda forced to keep moving by my older siblings. Later that day, we realized my sweater was missing. We looked all over Colonial Williamsburg and did not find my sweater. I remember a lot of crying on my part. I remember the rest of my elementary and middle schools longing to have that sweater once again be a part of my wardrobe. I have one picture of me in the sweater and I cherish this picture. If I were ever to find this sweater at a Goodwill or other thrift store, I would snatch it up in a minute. Nevermind that it would not fit me, it was a perfect sweater. Now, I live about 2 hours or so from Colonial Williamsburg and whenever I hear about that town, my heart yearns for my purple and pink bow sweater. I should mention this was 20 years ago.
