These are my Souvenirs

 

Here’s to the twilight
here’s to the memories
these are my souvenirs
~”Souvenirs” by Switchfoot

When you look around my room, you will find an assortment of so many random things. (seriously, ask my roommates, they’ll tell you). There’s a teddy bear, there’s poster with burnt paper, a jar of oil, an old style bullet, a can that had the side ripped open, a key, a pin to a grenade, a ship, some rocks, and I could go on and on.

Why do I have them? What is their purpose? to many people, these items are probably just a random collection of junk. But to me, every item is a memory, and more important than just a memory, it’s a memory of a person, and a life changed. Some are memories from my own life, a memory of a version of me in the past (some good, some bad). And some are memories of someone else’s life that I had the awesome chance to get to watch (and if I was really lucky, God let me play this little tiny part in).
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