The Socks That Went to War
I have been stuck in this attic for precisely 104 years, in fact its my birthday today. All I want is to get out of this box and be brought into the light. I have heard people downstairs talking, and socializing, but the sounds have gotten more clear. I hear what sounds like little kids whispering and I think they might just be in the attic. I can hear them rummaging through other boxes around mine. I’m hoping they find me and I can get out of this irrelevant box. I’m waiting and waiting and sure enough I feel something kick my box. They must have tripped over my crate. Now there are multiple kids touching all over my package and I have finally been brought into the light for the first time in 104 years. My birthday wish has come true. Although the children did not seem very interested in me, they did feel me and look at me. Now that I am out let's start from the beginning. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was born at the White House. In fact you might know who my mother is. Her name is Mrs. Wilson. I can remember the day I was made so clearly. I started out as just a piece of yarn. As I was developing I remember being poked by the knitting needles but sooner or later I was finally finished. I remember feeling sad I as was packed into a box to be shipped away from the White House but I soon realized I had a great purpose. Most people think that I was not very important considering I am just a sock, but I am much more valuable than people think. Once I was out of my shipping box I saw the faces of multiple soldiers staring at me. One special troop ended up picking me. His name was Frank. As soon as Frank held me he put me on and I fit on his feet perfectly. I had been so happy to keep Frank’s feet warm throughout the war. After the war Frank took me home and I lived in his house. The attic I was in was Frank’s house. He died a long time ago but his kids and grandkids still live in this house. Frank always took good care of me and made sure I never got ripped. Even when he had a case of trench foot or smelly feet, I loved to be with him. I saw him get stronger everyday. I saw him him get wounded and hurt. Although he’s not with me today I still cherish him and think about Frank always.
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Mrs. Wilson's Socks