My Box with Keepsakes

I came on the idea for this post after reading an article in my favorite weekly magazine. It brings me back in time because once I had a memory box.

It wasn't a luxury box but rather a very ordinary cardboard box.

Anyhow: The article that I mentioned above went about the film “*To kill a mockingbird”

This year this film became fifty years old and for me it's still one of the best films I have ever seen.

It's superb on all counts. It's a great adaptation of *this memorable novel written by (probably you will all know this) the American writer Harper Lee. She's an Alabama author, she only wrote one book – and it was a good one.

What has this to do with my memory box you shall say: well the opening scene of this film starts with a memory box, almost one like I had, although mine was a little larger.

This particular scene is still stuck to my memory. I love the sound of the tikking clock, the cheerful humming of Scout, and the rolling and bouncing of the marbles -- it's all so simple and oh so sensitive. The combination of the images and the music are so touching and so beautiful chosen, for me this scene is a real masterpiece. After so many years -- and seeing it severall times over again -- it still gives me goosebumps when I look at it.

Therefore I would like to show you this openings scene

Now back to the main topic

What was sitting in my box with keepsakes!

I was born in the middle of World War 2, so I had not much when I was a small child but I cherished the little things I had.

Unfortunately but not much that was sitting in that box has survived all those years, just some drawings that I made and one of my first books: The Story of Little Red Riding Hood (in Dutch: Roodkapje), my first Communion church book (I was raised catholic) with within it a little handkerchief edged with lace (it was a present for this celebration) and a few communion cards.

Once there was a little Jesus image glued on my prayer book but as you can see my little sister had torn it off, she had also scribbled with a pencil on my story book.

Here you see me with my prayer book, wrapped in the little handkerchief in my hands.

This picture is now 61 years old!

Then at least: the most important object, my doll. I called her: Hilda.

She's almost 60 years old now. My aunt made this doll for me after her little daughter Hilda (she was her only daughter) died of leukemia. She became only 8 years old. If you see pictures of Hilda she looks almost like the doll. She also had very blond short hair that curled outside, she seemed to be made of porcelain. She was such a pretty girl.

My doll is made entirely of cotton fabric and is stuffed with kapok inside, only the head was bought. One thing is regrettable but actually it didn't bother me: she can't bend her legs and arms so she can't sit. But despite this shortcomings for me she was perfect. My aunt also made her cloths.

Look how proud I was at my Hilda.

In this Christmas tree you can see the **Christmas balls and stars which we had made ourselves.:):)

Now you can see that the time has gnawed at the fabric, it starts to fall apart at some places.

You can also see that her cheeks are worn off because I cuddled her so much!

I will cherish her for the rest of my days.

I couldn't show you much, but these items have a great sentimental value for me.

When I look back on it, time has flown by, much much too fast!

One thing I know for sure: the time hasn't gnawed on

"To Kill a Mockingbird".

It will remain intact for always.

It's easy to enjoy and hard to forget.

PS: **On this post I discribed how and of what we made them.

Very special stuf!:):)