Once upon a time, there was a little girl named MoonRae, who had a beautiful blanket. It was colorful, and had golden threads interwoven throughout it, and she swore that it was the most perfect thing that she had ever laid eyes on. She loved that blanket with all her heart....She dragged it around everywhere she went, sometimes she dropped it, got it dirty, even stepped on it, without ever realizing she was abusing her blanket. In all honesty, she wasn't trying to abuse it, she just couldn't put the blanket down. As I said, she loved her blanket with all her heart. Every night, MoonRae would climb into bed, and hold the blanket tenderly against her cheek, and she would rest easy, knowing that as long as she had her blanket, she could face another day. She couldn't remember exactly where she got the blanket, or how or why it had become so important to her, all she knew was that every time her blanket got misplaced or lost, she was sad....sadder than anyone could ever imagine. She couldn't even conceive what life would be like without her blanket, and she vowed never to give it up. It wasn't long before MoonRae was old enough to go to school, and her mother had to tell her that she couldn't take her blanket with her each day. She was heartbroken, but her mother reassured her by telling her that all she had to do was think about her blanket while she was away, and know that it would be waiting for her when she got home each day. It wasn't easy, but after awhile MoonRae adjusted. She still loved that blanket just as much as she ever had, and just like her mother had said, simply knowing that it was still there, and that it wouldn't ever leave her, was enough to get her through the times when she couldn't have her blanket with her. Then, she would run home, and grab her blanket, and hold it lovingly against her cheek, and touch it tenderly to her heart, and she knew everything would be okay. After awhile, she began to make more and more friends around her neighborhood, and new friends from her school as well, and she would go out and play with them after school. At first, she would take her blanket with her, but then, her friends began to make fun of her, so she left the blanket at home. It didn't matter, she still loved it with all her heart, and even though she had less and less time to hold her blanket and feel its softness on her cheek, just knowing that the blanket was there when she needed it was still enough. She carried it around in her heart and in her soul, and when she was having a difficult time in the real world, she would imagine that she was holding her blanket close at that very moment, and just as it had always been, the mere thought of her blanket made everything seem a little better. Over time, her blanket became worn and frayed, in fact, it became so worn and frayed that after awhile, it was barely recognizable as the same blanket that she once had loved. It was shredded and threadbare, and became smaller and smaller, until eventually, it was so thin and worn that there was barely any blanket left at all. Her mother even bought her another blanket just like it, except that it was new and beautiful, and hers, as I said, had become old and worn. Still, it didn't matter. The little girl loved that blanket, and she realized that no other blanket could ever take its place. It was comfortable, and it was the blanket that she had cried upon when she was sad, hugged when she was happy, and most of all, held tightly to her cheek and to her heart when she needed something to comfort her. As the little girl grew older, she was able to spend less and less time with her beloved blanket, through no fault of her own, but she never loved it any less. Others around her would see her blanket, and say "why don't you just get rid of that old thing, it's not nearly as pretty as it used to be, and besides, who needs an old blanket, anyway?" This made the girl think to herself, why DO I need this blanket anyway? It IS old and worn, and besides, everyone around me wants me to give my blanket up. So she would put the blanket in her closet, because she just couldn't bear to throw it away, and there the blanket would lay, and the not-so-little girl would go on with her life. Still, it didn't matter. Every time she felt lonely, or sad, or insecure, or maybe just a little unloved, MoonRae would go to her closet when no one else was around, and take the blanket out, carefully unfold it, press out the creases, and hold it close to her heart. You know, I wish I could say that this story has an ending, and that the girl eventually quit needing her blanket, but it really doesn't, and she really didn't. The little girl never did give up her blanket, no matter how many times she tried to, or how many other people told her to. She just couldn't, she loved that old blanket too much, but she did learn to leave it in her closet for longer periods of time, and in time accepted that she couldn't always have her blanket when she needed it, at least not in the physical sense. But once again, it didn't matter. She always carried it around in her heart, even when she was miles away. And every so often, she still had to peek into her closet, and run her fingers lightly over the blanket that she had never stopped loving even for a second, and every now and again, she would stroke it gently against her cheek, or hold it tenderly next to her heart. And she knew that loving her blanket was okay, and that it didn't matter what others said or thought, and that the only thing that ever really mattered was what was inside her heart ....and that if she ever needed it, the blanket would always be there waiting for her. And you know what? It was.......
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