Writer's Block: One sweet day
Oct. 15th, 2011 11:44 pm[Error: unknown template qotd]
For years I wanted a Coach purse. I had carried a Coach messenger bag when I worked for the jewelry manufacturer and had to take shipments to the post office. I didn't even know what Coach was, but that messenger bag always made me feel so chic. I just could never justify the cost of owning one for myself. One day, (my husband's birthday in fact) he came home with a bag from the Coach store. Inside the bag, closed inside a box, wrapped in tissue, inside a pouch was a brand new, beautiful Coach purse. He had been saving the small bonuses he gets for tire sales at work for months to buy me that bag and gave it to me on his own birthday. I've carried it with me every day ever since. It's been about five years since then and the bag is starting to look a little dingy. The leather is starting to discolor, there are ink marks from times I've been careless dropping a pen in, and it's lost its shape from being stuffed in my backpack while I'm at school, but I can't bear to part with it. And not because it's Coach. But because of the sacrifice behind the gift.
For years I wanted a Coach purse. I had carried a Coach messenger bag when I worked for the jewelry manufacturer and had to take shipments to the post office. I didn't even know what Coach was, but that messenger bag always made me feel so chic. I just could never justify the cost of owning one for myself. One day, (my husband's birthday in fact) he came home with a bag from the Coach store. Inside the bag, closed inside a box, wrapped in tissue, inside a pouch was a brand new, beautiful Coach purse. He had been saving the small bonuses he gets for tire sales at work for months to buy me that bag and gave it to me on his own birthday. I've carried it with me every day ever since. It's been about five years since then and the bag is starting to look a little dingy. The leather is starting to discolor, there are ink marks from times I've been careless dropping a pen in, and it's lost its shape from being stuffed in my backpack while I'm at school, but I can't bear to part with it. And not because it's Coach. But because of the sacrifice behind the gift.