I picked these two up at my local Goodwill just a few days ago. Actually, I first chose the little girl figurine, liked the way she fit so easily in my palm. My eyes slid right over the little boy because of all the…plastic flowers. I’m sure that’s happened more than once because this little guy wore a fair amount of dust, or should I say, plasticky-feeling dirt.
The boy figurine was stuck up on the top shelf, I’m guessing so that his “flowers” would be noticeable and on full display. The little girl was one single row underneath him, next to two white porcelain geese, both sporting those awful aqua bows so reminiscent of the 80’s. Obviously,I needed to get her out of there.
I flipped the bottom of the girl figurine up, whispering all the while…”hummel, hummel,hummel…” but, alas, no marking on her base. No bother, I thought she was worth the $1.99 for her cuteness alone so I walked around the rest of the aisle with her propped between my fingers. It was kind of funny now, looking back, how I had her placed so that it appeared she was checking everything out along with me.
Except that she wasn’t.
Those eyes of hers were transfixed on those stupid plastic flowers, and the boy figurine in the center. I laughed it off as I moved around the store, but somehow we kept coming back to the knick-knack aisle. Finally I picked the plastic flowers up to take a closer look at that figure trapped within. I sat the little girl on the top shelf and she watched as I pushed those flowers aside and found…that the bottom of the figurine had been stuck into a green square of floral foam somehow. Well now, that intrigued me some. Could this little guy be a hummel figurine after all?
I debated a minute and for each of those sixty seconds I felt the little girl’s eyes watching me from the top shelf. I couldn’t take it any longer so I scooped her up and with the plastic flowers in one hand and her in the other I literally ran for the register.
Because it became apparent what the real story is here-I need to free the little boy figurine from his plastic flower prison.
With the little girl’s black olive eyes watching my every chisel, I set to work. First I pulled the plastic bits out, uncovered a faded pink ribbon that had been stuck inside, dislodged even more crusted dust underneath and then…I saw why he’d been stuck there in the first place.
He was broken.
How did he break? Did a child knock him over? Did someone drop him when they were dusting? Did a cat stroll through where he shouldn’t have?
However it happened, someone took very strong glue and a very strong hand and smooshed this little guy right into the floral foam for all time. Or, until some years later when this woman bought him and decided to free him…under the watchful gaze of his new best friend.
See, don’t they look happy now?