Up in my Grandmother's attic there's an old weathered brown leather chest. Where the dreams and the hopes of a young woman were lovingly put there to rest. Curiosity, it had better of me I knew that it wasnt 'quite right'. But I wanted to know what was in it So I crept up there nice 'n' quiet. With a heart pounding fast and quite loudly I knelt down beside that old chest. and with guilt laying heavily on me my conscience was put to the test. There was dust all over the surface 'I'll just have one quick little peak' I lifted an old piece of fabric and felt a tear trickle over my cheek. I saw letters tied with pink ribbons an Orchid browned and quite dry. But who is the bride in the photo? 'Oh Goodness'. I start to cry. I realised that they were the memories Of a girl not much different than I. and I wonder if one day my Grandchildren will weep by my chest by and by.
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