My grandparents had the rare distinction, receiving the touch from a famous historical person, they live peacefully in a national museum.
A painter discovered my parents at a store and her delicate stroke of brushes made them precious.
I was folded, glued and found myself hanging in a gift shop. My heart danced with joy when a lady bought me before boarding her flight. I said to myself, “I will be as memorable as my ancestor’s.”
Alas, everybody appreciated the linen I carried.
I am a ‘Handmade’ paper bag standing alone discarded in the corner of a room.