This is my fifth year serving as my community’s Girl Scout troop leader. Thankfully, my friend Sarah volunteers as the Troop’s treasurer. After I purchase beads at Michael’s for craft time or badges from the great Girl Scout store up north somewhere, I turn in my receipts to Sarah. During my first year as leader, I found myself holding a couple receipts, and I grabbed a random folder from the used folder drawer at my house.
This folder has held on. It has longevity. It has become THE GREEN FOLDER.
Brownies tremble in its presence. Senator Tuberville longs to stroke its fibers and savor it greenosity. Untold generations will benefit from its wisdom.
I am reminded of my father’s old mallet, which now lives in my own garage 925 miles away.
When I was a kid, I found it mesmerizing. The hammer’s hard, molded, yellow plastic side held me in its thrall. It was probably magical. The plainer, black, compressed-rubber side enticed me as well because it was very hard but also NOT very hard and I couldn’t understand why my fingers would not register and categorize its texture. This hammer has high value.