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By Kirsten, Reynoldsburg, OH

Dust cluttered around her plastic hands
Dust that showed evidence
Of new friends
New ideas
New dreams

I picked her up
Carefully holding her .
Memories rushed into me
That had been forgotten

I brushed the dust off her face
Not all of it was coming off
She would never be like new again

I searched every memory
Trying to remember her name.
Her name was Malisa

I could clearly remember now
The joy I had felt
Holding her for that first time
So many Christmases ago

Times had changed though
New friends
new ideas
new dreams

I set her little figure back
Keeping her memory
living in my heart.
I walked away.

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