ROSIE'S CASHMERE SCARF

By Len A.Hynds

The moment young Rosie, my mistress tore open the Christmas parcel and we saw each other for the first time it was love at first sight. A fair haired six year old with golden hair and blue eyes, rosy cheeks with dimples, and as she pressed her face into my warmth I was lost completely.

I had heard her mum say on that occasion, that I was a special cashmere scarf, my fine hairs cherished by generations in a part of China called Alashan, I had then been carried by Ox cart to the coast and sold to an American Scarf manufacturer called Hanson. It was in America that I was born, and with my brothers shipped across to England to that shop, and bought by Rosie’s mum.

I wrapped myself around her everyday in the winter, tenderly looking after my mistress, but yesterday on the way back from school some horrid boys were throwing snowballs and one stuck to my scarf. I was afraid that the icy water would seep through to her neck, so tried to shake it loose.

Instead I became loose and fell to the ground completely un-noticed, being kicked aside by the following boys. It snowed that night and I was nearly covered completely, but at 5.am, I saw a torch shining down at me and I was pulled out of the snow by the policeman who I had seen many times guiding young children across the road outside the school.

I was too full of snow to be put through our letter box, so he tied me to the knocker. I saw him write a note which went into the letter box which read, "Dear Rosie I found this little varmint crying in the snow. He's outside on the knocker, and needs warming up. See you next week when I'm back on days."

Signed:
PC509. Williams
Aren't your policemen wonderful!