Grandma's Thimble, Ashley Alongi

My most prized possession is small. It has never been and probably will never used by me. It is tucked a way in a small blue box. It is a thimble. But not just any thimble. It was my grandmothers. It was the one thing I wanted when she died. Through the piles of jewelry my cousins kept shoving at me I found it, entangled in a strand of pearls. Taking it out of its box my fingers running across the velvet lining, I placed it on my pinky and began to laugh. That thimble which my cousins felt had no value was an inside between my grandma and I. While the thimble could fit on everyone of her long slender fingers it could only fit on my pinky finger even at the age of five. Even though that day I left with expensive gold necklaces and rings all cared about was that 15 cent thimble. The thimble, now losing its shine, sits on my bookshelf. When I look at it , it helps me remember all the good times and it makes me laugh. Not just because of my insanely large fingers, but because I don't think grandma sewed one day in her life.