The cardboard shirt box from the five-and-dime sat in the middle of her quilt.

I picked it up and carried it back to the bright kitchen.

I took the lid off the box.

The satin christening gown lay perfectly still.

It caught the yellow light from the ceiling fixture.

The fabric was spotless.

It had never touched the dirt behind the Methodist church.

It had never been sealed up in a little wooden box.