Two weeks ago, I met friends for lunch. Someone had suggested that we each bring a favorite bag from our past. It was great fun to see what everyone brought, and the stories about each one were delightful. One friend collects very special, tiny wooden purses, another brought a leather shoulder bag that she had made in a class, another brought a bag she had used for a "spy bag" during The Man from U.N.C.L.E. years. Another brought a bag she had made as a child for her mom from a decorative canister and one which her daughter had made for her.
I didn't have any special bag of my own to bring. I do remember a red leather drawstring shoulder pocketbook from my childhood. I was probably eight years old. It was Christmas morning and there were lots of wonderful presents under the tree for my brother and me. I'll admit to having been a bit sad when I did not receive the pocketbook that had been near the top of my Christmas list. My mom asked why I seemed sad and when I told her, she said, "Christmas isn't over yet." Later in the day my Aunt Joan and Uncle Buddy came with their boys. What was my gift from them? Yes, a beautiful red leather pocketbook which would have put a smile on any little girl's face.
Back to the lunch, in my haste to get to the gym that morning, I forgot to bring a bag for "show and tell." This little evening bag belonged to my grandmother on my mother's side. There is a tag indicating that it was made in Austria, and I would say it probably dates back to the early part of the last century. Isn't it sweet?
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