The Candy Box House

Somehow, I knew. I just knew. The minute I was put together, splinter upon splinter, my joints secured by new shiny nails, varnish upon varnish, I knew where I was headed. How do I explain it? I can't. In the past year I have learnt much that I did not know back then when I was freshly whole instead of pieces of scrap in the warehouse. But I knew my destiny even before my little owner came to claim me. That was where I was headed. I would belong to the little girl with the pigtails and the scabby knees and when I first saw her, I somehow knew her.

They let her paint me any which way she chose to. I still remember her face when her father showed her the little pails of paint and a spanking new brush he had bought especially for her. What a smile! She sat cross-legged before me and ran her hands along the length of newly jointed wood. Her hands were so small, slightly damp and sticky, the chubby hands of a child. So different from those of the carpenters who put me together. And that is how I got acquainted with her. I already knew her, but at that first touch, I was hers, completely. My little girl with her smile and scabby knees.

All day long she mixed hues, her mother showing her how to make pink with red and white, how to make purple, orange and watery green. She decided to paint my roof a dusty shade of pink and gave me a dark purple chimney. "So that the black smoke stains won't show", she said. My sides were painted a beautiful cobalt blue with tall leafy trees, the yellowest sun I have ever seen with birds of all colours. Then near the chimney, up on the roof, she painted a nest of robin eggs.

My little girl and I waited for three days till I was completely dry. During that time, we would sit opposite each others for hours just looking at each other. Her lips would move and she would smile and tell me all she planned to do with me. My candy box house. That's what she called me. The name was funny but she was my little girl and I would be anything she wanted me to be. I became her candy box house.

In this one year I have housed dolls, stuffed animals, imaginary friend, E.T, Lassie and Black Beauty. Everyday, my little girl comes up with a new play for us. She loves me. She loves me as I love her. One day, I know she will grow up and I will cease to be of interest anymore. The thought hurts but I know she will never forget me, whether I remain in her little room or be kept in storage for her own kids someday, I know I will always be her candy box house.

It is peaceful tonight and the light from the nursery lamp is soft and I can see my little girl fast asleep. She is still clutching her toy raccoon fast in one hand. She is precious and I know that I am witness to some of the most beautiful years of her life. Above her bed, a plaque reads my favourite lines from Black beauty - "I have nothing to fear and here my story ends. My troubles are over; and I am home."

Good night little girl, sleep well, dream happy dreams. I am your candy box house.