She asked him to make her a simple pine box, nothing
extravagant, because she could not afford it. It was to be three and one-half feet
long, and eighteen inches wide. The top was to be hinged or slide open and
closed. She would need it lined with some simple cloth, and maybe some foam
padding. He told her he’d build the box, but the padding would need to be done
by an upholsterer. She wept, because all she had, was going to make this box.
She realized she could not afford to upholster it. The carpenter said he was sorry and left.
But he came back a short time later, and having given it some thought, he told
the woman he would do the job if she paid only for materials, and that should
save her enough to have the box lined. She thanked him and explained that the
box was for a doll, a very special doll that her Mother had left her. She would
soon be traveling far away, and wanted it safe to transport. She thanked him
again and again, but he was uncomfortable with the outpouring, and excused
himself. Before he did, he told her it would be ready in three days. He would
discuss the project with the upholsterer, but she would have to deal with the
price. She agreed, and the next day she ventured into town to do just that. It
turns out that the upholsterer was a woman that had taken over her family
business, because her husband had gone blind. She was immediately suspicious
about the box. She asked again what the usage was, and the reply was the same.
The woman explained her financial situation and asked, again, that it be
simple. In that case, the business woman queried, wouldn’t a plain foam lining
be enough? The doll would safe enough. The woman demurred, stating, that if she
could, she would line the box with red velvet, tufted with gold button - the
doll was that important to her. The upholsterer stated that this must be a
special doll indeed, and the woman, not able to hold back her tears any longer,
confirmed that it was loved by her Mother, and was all she had left of the
depleted estate. The upholsterer was a hard woman, but was touched by her
tears. She stated that she would do the best she could, that perhaps she had
scraps from a larger job that might fit the bill. She would also need three
days, from the time she received the box from the carpenter. That was an
unexpected delay, and since the woman had only a week to prepare, it would push
her right against her deadline. The train will not wait, but what else could she do?
She agreed and they parted.
Six days later she went to the upholsterer’s shop and was
overcome by the obvious care and craftsmanship of the box. Not only was it not
pine, but oak with inlays, and it also had a lining of red velour, tufted with
gold buttons. It was so beautifully executed, she was overcome. The upholsterer
fixed her some tea, and had her sit awhile, while she collected her emotions.
Once she had done so, she gathered up the box, handling it as if it were
magical, and after thanking the woman profusely, she made her way down the
road.
Once she arrived home, she took the doll and gently placed
it in the box. There was little time left. That night she would bury it, and
in the morning, leave this town for good.
V
