Boxes

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Writer's Notes:

Sorry for the prompt being a bit late! I had a hard time pulling my thoughts together on this one and ended up with a rather short story. Hope everyone enjoys.

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The cemetery yard had emptied. Of the great crowd that had gathered, only Ken remained standing at the grave sight of his late father. Overcome with emotion, Ken began to weep softly. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out his father's prized family heirloom, a small, engraved wooden box. The words 'Hopes & Dreams' were engraved on the top.

"I can still remember the first time you showed me this box," said Ken, "I was just a kid, but I can still remember you explaining it to me. 'Can you imagine it?' you asked. 'a box as small as this -- carrying all of your hopes and dreams?' I asked you if a box could actually do that. You said that it couldn't. Because no matter how big a box is or how much it can hold -- it can never hold you. Never hold who you are or what you are capable of."

Ken choked at his own words. The gravity of the moment brought all of his emotions crashing unto him. 

"I will always remember you telling me that," Ken continued, clinching onto the wooden box, "and seeing you in that coffin today made me realize that while a box holds all of us in the end... It can never hold who we really are. I never before understood the idea of this box, but I think I get it now. For however long I'm alive, I will always remember you. And I will always remember to carry all of my hopes and dreams with me, just like you did."

The End