Once

There was a world where all of the parents lied to their children. These were not hurtful lies though, but rather ones meant to comfort the children. Simply, when the child would lose something, a toy, a gift, a favorite animal, anything really, the parents would tell them "Somewhere, someone is caring and loving and cherishing it"

But slowly as the children grew older, some becoming parents themselves, they came to understand that it was not so.

Some were angry.

Some were sad.

Most were indifferent and assumed that they should do the same, that it was just what you told children.

One child, however, grew up still believing.

Though he understood that what he had been told wasn't true, he wanted to make sure that it would be true for everyone else.

And one day,

He began to collect little things here and there; books, necklaces, toy trains and little dolls. Everything he came across he kept and loved. Soon it took over his room and house and even his attic. So the man, getting a little older now, moved into a larger place with more room.

Still his collection grew and everyday he knew the joy and love and peace that each of these things had brought someone else. He often would wander for days through the shambles of objects, picking them up one by one, whatever struck his interest, and loving it for the person who came before, drawing on its memories.

One day, as the man made his way in the town, eyes darting about as they naturally did, looking for something that had lost it's way, he noticed a small boy crying loudly.

"What's wrong, child?"

"I've lost my watch!" the boy exclaimed and began to cry harder now that the horrible truth was spoken.

The man smiled kindly ""Don't be sad, child. I'm sure somebody found your watch and is taking good care of it, just like you did."

The boy was unmoved, "But, it was my father's watch! How could I have lost it?"

"I'm sure he will understand, boy, and tell you the same thing. Somewhere, someone is keeping it for you."

The boy grew somber and sniffed away his tears. He met the mans eyes and spoke quietly, "He cannot tell me that, sir, my father has died."

And with that, he changed the man's heart. The child's words sparked a new thought in the man's mind.

"Come with me child."

The man, not as nimble as he once was, brought the child to his home and led him through.

"I keep the lost things of the world, see if your father's watch is here."

They searched for hours on end, and finally the man heard the child exclaim, "It's here! It's here!" He ran to the man with watch in hand, beaming.

"Take it then, child, it is yours. Love your father and remember him always. If ever it is lost again, know that your father loves you no matter where it ends up."

The child ran out of the house and down the street and all the way home.

The man was no longer sure about his life of collecting orphaned treasures. He walked through the house for two days before coming to a decision; every item made him wonder now. Is it enough that I love, if I can't know what they really meant?

Finally he opened his doors
and windows
and gates
and walked into town.

Day by day he would bring someone home and wander through the house, picking out all of the things they had lost. Some were dishonest, taking anything that they liked, but inevitably they were moved by the discovery of their own childhood amongst the piles that they repented and returned what wasn't theirs.

Soon the man didn't need to travel to town, and as they came to him every day, he got to know some of the family names. The people were kind and careful. Slowly the days and weeks and eventually years passed by.

The man's collection dwindled. Thinner layers in fewer rooms. A stack of level items here, a box of strange shapes there. He was getting quite old and had to let the people search the house without him, as he slept much of the time.

One morning, when he came down the stairs, he discovered that finally everything was gone. He took one last pass through the house to see if anything remained.

All he found was an old mirror lying in the grass just beside the front door. The frame was immediately familiar to him. He had brought it from his original house, and before that the house of his parents, the mirror had been in his own room. He picked it up and ran the sleeve of his robe across the glass, clearing off decades of dust.

When he looked,
He did not recognize himself.

He moved sadly back into the house, drained by the years and the loss of his borrowed joys. As he sat, holding the mirror and staring into space, a young man came into the room.

"Sir?"

He looked at the young man, and because he was now quite old said,

"Yes child?"

The young man smiled and said, "You will always call me child, won't you sir?"

The old man recognized the boy who lost the watch, he smiled a slow, gentle smile, "I believe I will."

"Come with me, I have something for you."

So the old man walked outside and followed the boy into the town, along the streets, his eyes no longer darting, but looking sadly ahead. The boy slowed, then stopped. In front of them was the whole town. Some were smiling, others seemed unsure. All seemed happy, though, and glad to see him.

The boy took the man's hand and said, "We're glad we found you, won't you come back to us?"

And the man left his large house, and moved in with the boy, who had purchased the old family home years before, and all the town came to talk and share and eat.

All were glad to have found the man, who had found each of them years before.

The End