The
Cowboy Vest The
Cowboy Vest
I don't recall handing down any clothes to my younger brothers. It seems that we were too "hard" on our clothes, and a lot of that may be because we never had many clothes to begin with. Even the "blankees" we cherished were worn away with years of thumb sucking abuse - My "doi doi" was extremely tattered, and Tim's pillows lost their feathers as he continued to "pluck and sniff".
One of those pieces of clothing that became well worn was my cowboy vest. It was something that I received as a gift right after my surgery, along with a pair of cowboy boots,. Unfortunately, I could not wear the boots; so mom gave these to Tim. Even so I wore that vest night and day, even though I spent most of the time in a crib in the living room. At some point I noticed that I wasn't wearing the vest anymore. I asked mom, "where is my cowboy jacket?" She told me that she gave it away to the Church because some poor child may appreciate having a cowboy vest for themselves.
"What", I cried. "How could you give my jacket away?" I didn't like her answer, and I cried for a long time because this was my favorite outfit.
A few days later, the doorbell rang. In walked a woman and handed back the vest to mom. Mom said, "why are you giving this back?" The woman responded, "I'm sorry Mrs. Smith, this is too worn out for us to accept."
She handed the vest back to me, and I was the happiest boy alive.