This is what I want to never forget.
We are looking for lucky acorns, because Henry wants to make a wish.
"It should be flat but not broken," he tells me. Everyone knows the Impossible Acorn is the luckiest.
I pick up an un-flat but pretty acorn. "I don't know, Henry, this one feels lucky to me."
He looks it over. "It's not flat, but it's okay," he says.
He squeezes it in his fist and brings it up to his mouth. Clamps his eyes shut, and whispers. Loudly, so I can hear. But I'm not telling you what the wish is, because everyone knows then it won't come true.
He looks at me, nods, then tosses the acorn. "Good," he says. Now we can finish our walk. We're not crossing any more streets, but we hold hands anyway.










October 11, 2007
Reader Comments (37)
(Or something similar but stated in a less cliche way.)
We have an acorn fetish in our house, too. We come home from the playground with bags and bags of them and I find the little guys all over the house, tucked into corners and in the crisper in the fridge.
I think they are magical too! A lovely story...