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An old tattered book stood silent and still
Gazing through the dust of an old window sill
Remembering, as it stood on the shelf dark and gray
Of the times when the children would all come to play
"It is mine!" one would yell as they pulled on its cover
"No it's not! It is mine!" would shout still another
Back then, thought the book, I was shiny and new
Not musty and old and full of mold and mildew
My wording was bold and my pictures were bright
I put many a wee one to sleep for the night
My stories brought laughter and joy to all ages
But it’s been a long time since small hands turned my pages
They have all gone away, thought the book to itself
And now I'm alone sitting here on this shelf
But I did my job well, the book glowed with pride
And I have many memories stored here inside
Oh how I would love to be opened once more...
And then the old book heard a sound at the door
A light was turned on at a desk by the shelf
And the book heard a woman exclaim to herself
"I know it's here somewhere, I almost forgot
Where mother had kept it when I was a tot"
And then the old book felt a soft gentle hand
Lift him off of the shelf in the musty book stand
She brushed him off gently and opened him wide
And she proudly displayed him to the child at her side
"This book was your mommies when she was a tyke.
And it has many stories I know you will like.
We will clean it all up and it will be just like new.
And then you can take it to your room with you."
The wee little toddler was glowing with pride
As she snuggled in bed with the book at her side
Now this, thought the book, is why I am here
To be a companion to children so dear
And I only hope when this child is grown
She will pass me along to babes of her own
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