Going through my mother's things, we ran across a wrapped item in a box - felt kind of fragile. We carefully unwrapped it and inside was a broken cup. Just a plain white coffee cup that looked like millions of other restaurant-type cups. Because of the other items in the box, we knew it had not been broken after it was packed. At the time, my brother, sister and I thought this was pretty funny. Our mother had wrapped it after it was broken - not able to throw it away. Even though this cup wasn't worth anything and could not be fixed, that was just the way she was. Even the most worthless object was special to her.
It's been over a year since we found that cup. In my mind, I can see her wrapping that plain, white, broken coffee cup. Gingerly, taking her time to make sure every piece of broken china was secure and carefully placing it in the box with some of her other pretties.
What did we do with the cup? Well, after sharing some laughter and other memories, we carefully rewrapped the broken cup and place it back in the box to go through later. I'm not sure that we will be able to throw that worthless, plain, white, broken coffee cup away. Perhaps, we will leave that for the next generation.