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I love my sheets all wrinkled, torn and worn.

They are full of color, with smudges here and there.

It’s my birthday.

I open the box, and to my surprise.

There were new sheets waiting inside.

I began to cry and say, “uh, oh, there’s been a mistake!”

You’ve given me somebody else gifts. this cannot be.

They replied, “you need new sheets. Yours are torn, worn, dirty and falling apart!”

I don’t need new sheets!

How can this be? I’m positive I have all I need!

I don’t plan on going backwards or starting over, you see.

I cannot accept what doesn’t belong to me.

Everything used, wrinkled, worn or torn is not meant to be replaced, but loved and held on too.

I open my nightstand, to retrieve my wrinkled sheets, and prepare for some peaceful goodnight sleep.

The one gift that was especially, created just for me.

Until next time, love your wrinkled sheets. They come alive when you read. Yes!