Whats your most precious possession?

[Anonymous]

Long story, I've posted the story here before, but while my mom was hospitalized for mental health issues when I was about 3-5 (yes, years worth) I sought out a neighbor lady to play with. I thought I was doing her a favor because I thought she was lonely, but clearly I was seeking a mother figure. I always played with a little cast iron stove on her living room carpet, she'd give me two pieces of hard candy, and I'd go home. When she moved away, she came over to give me the stove and I still have it. I love it because it's such a testament to the kindness of strangers. Also, my grandfather's matchbook collection. He travelled the world for work, and it's all represented in a very large jar of matchbooks.

[Anonymous]

Children shouldn't play with matches

[Anonymous]

Your mind.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:Long story, I've posted the story here before, but while my mom was hospitalized for mental health issues when I was about 3-5 (yes, years worth) I sought out a neighbor lady to play with. I thought I was doing her a favor because I thought she was lonely, but clearly I was seeking a mother figure. I always played with a little cast iron stove on her living room carpet, she'd give me two pieces of hard candy, and I'd go home. When she moved away, she came over to give me the stove and I still have it. I love it because it's such a testament to the kindness of strangers. Also, my grandfather's matchbook collection. He travelled the world for work, and it's all represented in a very large jar of matchbooks.

What a nice story! Can you remember her name, given how long ago that was, and how little you were? Have you ever tried to find her?

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:Long story, I've posted the story here before, but while my mom was hospitalized for mental health issues when I was about 3-5 (yes, years worth) I sought out a neighbor lady to play with. I thought I was doing her a favor because I thought she was lonely, but clearly I was seeking a mother figure. I always played with a little cast iron stove on her living room carpet, she'd give me two pieces of hard candy, and I'd go home. When she moved away, she came over to give me the stove and I still have it. I love it because it's such a testament to the kindness of strangers. Also, my grandfather's matchbook collection. He travelled the world for work, and it's all represented in a very large jar of matchbooks.

What a nice story! Can you remember her name, given how long ago that was, and how little you were? Have you ever tried to find her?

I did try to find her, but couldn't. We were still in touch with one family in the neighborhood and they didn't know her last name or where she moved, but they thought it was to get married, which wouldn't help with the last name. My dad remembers that there was a lady but didn't know her name. Once I realize how important it was to me, I really wanted her to know how much she impacted my early years. I really wish I could find her. I'm 46 now, this is beyond a long time ago!!

[Anonymous]

After my kids and dog, my photo albums, tea cup from my grandmother and wood carvings from my grandfather. I love your story OP. Thank you for making me take a moment to realize what cherished treasures I have.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:My mom was a stay at home mom in the 70s and she had a little side business of making wedding cakes. She would work on them every Thursday-Saturday and drop it off at the reception. I never really gave it much thought or appreciation. She died when I was 20 and I had kind of forgotten about her little side hobby. Years later at my wedding my aunt gave me my moms "cake book." She had made 108 wedding cakes and had a picture of each one. She pasted it to the notebook and wrote a few sentences about the couple, the cake, and how much she changed. It is just so precious to me. It was something that was HERS. It wasn't about her 4 kids, or my dad, or a million other duties she had it just represents a hobby that she loved and a talent that she had. Now my little girls LOVE to look through the "cake book" and we talk about how we bet they were so delicious and what would we would want her to make for us. In a fire I would grab the cake book!! What about you?

I'd grab my kids, my laptop, my jewelry, my photo albums, handbag and car keys. I could do it pretty quickly too, house is pretty small

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:Long story, I've posted the story here before, but while my mom was hospitalized for mental health issues when I was about 3-5 (yes, years worth) I sought out a neighbor lady to play with. I thought I was doing her a favor because I thought she was lonely, but clearly I was seeking a mother figure. I always played with a little cast iron stove on her living room carpet, she'd give me two pieces of hard candy, and I'd go home. When she moved away, she came over to give me the stove and I still have it. I love it because it's such a testament to the kindness of strangers. Also, my grandfather's matchbook collection. He travelled the world for work, and it's all represented in a very large jar of matchbooks.

What a nice story! Can you remember her name, given how long ago that was, and how little you were? Have you ever tried to find her?

I did try to find her, but couldn't. We were still in touch with one family in the neighborhood and they didn't know her last name or where she moved, but they thought it was to get married, which wouldn't help with the last name. My dad remembers that there was a lady but didn't know her name. Once I realize how important it was to me, I really wanted her to know how much she impacted my early years. I really wish I could find her. I'm 46 now, this is beyond a long time ago!!

First, OP, what a great story!
Second, PP…if the old lady owned the house, I bet you can find out. Or if you hired a PI you could find out, probably for not too much $$.

Third, my dad's slingshot. He was 50 when I was born and I'm 49, so he was born in 1915. Back when he was a kid, the boys would find a "Y"-shaped tree branch and cut it off and plane it down to make a slingshot. Picking the branch was a bit of an art form. My dad had a few of these, and we have a picture of him as a little kid with that old-fashioned cap and his sling shot sticking out of his pants, just like that stereotype.