treasure box memory...

Each and every one of us has a treasure box
filled with memories...
filled with
smells, colors, stories, people, places...

While driving
one memory
caught my attention
like an old 18mm home movie
clicking frame by frame....

My best friend next door and I
played most every day when we
were 3 and 4.

Her name was Kristin.
I called her Pistin.
She was the boss....
that was made clear.
I was OK with that.

One afternoon we colored
the wall in the garage....
not just a scribble here and there
we colored the wall
solid
with our box of crayons.
I suppose when we had a job
back then we did it...
and we did it well.

I also remember running home
one day
crying at the top of my lungs.

My mother ran to my side
and before asking what the matter
was she saw...
a bite mark
deeply imprinted on my cheek.

Who did this?
Pistin.
Well I hope you bit her back!
No....I said. No I didn't.
Well why not?

Cuz mom...
I's love Pistin.

For what it is worth
this is a treasure in
my box....
a memory,
a blessing....