I use vintage handkerchiefs, found over the years in a dozen places. Some are in better shape than others, and as I carry them about from day to day, they wear out in their different ways. Some of them I like better, finding them more pleasing in size or texture, color or embellishment.
Today, one of the favorites came to the top of the handkerchief pile in the top dresser drawer. I thought about setting it aside, to keep it nicer longer.
But why? I love this scrap of linen, with its pretty scalloped border and embroidered posies. If I don’t take it with me today, now, when will I? This handkerchief is not wearing thin, as are others of my favorites. It’s good.
Today, this moment—that’s all I can be sure of. So I will enjoy this belonging of mine, this small thing that makes me happy in a small way.
I fold it, and put it in my pocket, and go to meet the day.