Sunday, November 13, 2011

Finders Keepers! Forever....

Once upon a time...

there was a woman who loved to go treasure hunting. She would stop the car in an instant, to pick up curbside cast-offs ... a crusty old picture frame, a mis-matched set of broken chairs, a rogue set of table legs.

She could barely pass up a yard sale sign on any given Friday...

or Saturday...

or Sunday.

When running weekday errands to the bank or store or post office, the local thrift stores called to her.

On occasion, she would patronize the corner collectors mall or antique stores.

One day, while out on a play date with friends at one such collectors market, she happened across this little heap of black fur with yellow boots sitting on an end cap shelf, surrounded by all sorts.

He was a little a lot worse for wear. His tiny plastic hands were stained and yellowed with time. His once fluffy black coat was thread-bare. His face was scarred and scuffed. His bright red corduroy overalls were now faded and worn smooth in places. His boots, well, his boots were tired.

There he sat. All frumpled over with his internal stuffing broken down and a bit dishevelled, causing his head to flop down towards his chest. Time had taken its toll upon him. He had all but given up. He no longer had the confidence to hold his head up high.

His time to comfort, entertain, love and be loved had come to an end.

There he sat.

A discard.

A second-hand Monkey.

But he caught her eye, sitting there on the end cap all forlorn.

She walked over to his perch; reached out to him. Said a few quiet words and gently touched his tiny hand.

His heart jumped. 

Could it be?

He felt it. She felt it.

There was an instant bond.

She lifted his head. He looked up to her and his face was full of joy! He had found a new friend to give his little life meaning once again.

Today, he spends his days lazing about watching over the goings-on at the Rusty Monkey.

Some days, he sits in his basket swing.

Some days, he sits on a shelf, warm in the sun.

Some days, he wears a hat ... he can't decide whether his favorite is the little blue and white striped engineer hat or the bright white sailor cap or the silly little sunbonnet that makes him look like a girl!!!

BUT, he doesn't mind, because regardless of what he is wearing or where he spends his days,


linking up today to Donna up at


Katalina Jewelry said...

My brother had a stuffed monkey that he named Zippy when I was growing up. Your happy monkey brings back memories of Zippy. He too had a lot of wear and tear - my brother threw him in the fire and then cried his head off till my dad rescued him but not without significant damage. Still my brother loved Zippy for many years after that and he was passed down to my other brothers. I'm so glad you've made a welcoming home for your monkey. It's good to see a smile on his face! Your wonderful little story of his rescue has certainly brought a smile to mine!

Kristen Robinson said...

I will never forget the day that the Scary Monkey was collected and the Rusty Monkey was born.


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