Blankie: A Sabbath Story of Renewal

Don't worry, I'm not actually going to use Blankie as a metaphor for the Atonement.

Here's the backstory: for Madie's first Christmas, Aunt Holly sent her a small, portable blankie. She said that because Mike was so attached to his blankie (which was an actual blanket--and he still has it) she thought Madie might like a blankie herself. I don't mind if my kids are attached to things when they're little, but I do mind if it's so big that it drags all over the ground (memories of a four-year old in Ikea with a blanket that could literally fit a queen bed have hounded me for ages!) so the idea of having a small one to carry around just makes so much sense! 

Madie and Blankie were the best of friends from then on. Blankie was perfect: small, soft, and purple. Madie took her to church, to bed, to breakfast, to lunch, to naptime, to park group--you name it. 

Then the fateful day came: the daddy-daughter campout an hour away. Of course Blankie had to go! (Monkey went too, but was carried in the backpack, Blankie was carried by Madie.) Instead of packing a dinner, Mike said they would just stop by a diner or something and get something to eat. This was the last place Blankie was ever seen. 

:(

Madie and Mike didn't really notice at first because of all the excitement of the campout. But when Mike came home he said he hadn't noticed it for some time. He called the restaurant and they said they hadn't seen anything.

We like to think that Blankie is resting in peace on a sandy beach somewhere on the coast of California. And I think we're probably spot on there.

Luckily, Mumma and Dada have friends in high places. I made a couple of phone calls, pulled a couple of strings, and in the mail on Saturday there was a package for the Fi.

Mumma! What's in there?

Could it really be?!

BLANKIE! Where have you been?! You crazy thing!

You're so clean! So soft! You look great!

Quick! Come see Puppy! She's been dying to see you!

Thanks again, Hol!