Trixie, Mart, and Brian climbed the stairs to the attic of Crabapple Farm in search of abandoned and forgotten treasures. The Sleepyside Community Center was having a city-wide garage sale to raise money for its youth programs. Eager to help, the three Beldens were looking for items that they could contribute to the cause. After brushing away cobwebs and opening a window for ventilation, the siblings set to work going through old boxes and trunks. Mart was pulling a box out of a deep recess of the attic when he stumbled and landed hard on the attic floor. He lay there for a second waiting for Brian and Trixie to stop laughing.

"Another one bites the dust," The two sang in unison. As he was rolling over to stand up, he noticed a bulky item that had been pushed far back under the eaves and covered by a sheet.

"Hey, what's this?" he called out.

Mart slid the protected item out and into the open space of the attic floor and uncovered it. The other two dropped to their knees as they stared at an old, handmade dollhouse.

"From where did this originate?" asked Mart.

After a moment of deep thought, Brian responded, "As I recall, it was Trixie's."

"Mine!" Trixie exclaimed. "Why don't I remember it?"

"I think it was the Christmas when you were around three. It had been Aunt Alicia's and Moms' when they were young. Aunt Alicia refinished it for you. She even crocheted curtains and made carpets for it," said Brian as he rubbed his chin with his hand. "But you hated it. As soon as you unwrapped it, you started crying."

"Tsk, tsk," scolded Mart as he shook his finger at Trixie and grinned.

"Looks like I didn't even finish unwrapping it," said Trixie as she picked at faded Christmas wrap still taped to the house.

"I think Dad had to bring it up here right away. It was the only way to get you to stop crying," continued Brian.

"I was probably afraid Moms would make me dust it everyday," quipped Trixie.

"Do we want to donate it?" asked Mart.

Silence fell over the attic. Brian and Mart watched Trixie's face as she considered the long-forgotten dollhouse. She carefully turned it around and peered inside. She even looked underneath it. On the bottom of the house, she found an old handwritten message in a familiar script,

Merry Christmas, Beatrix. Love, Aunt Alicia

"You know," said Trixie slowly as she ran her hand across the top of the dollhouse, "I never played with this. But maybe one day, one of us will have a little girl who will love it. Maybe we could just hang on to it a bit longer."

Trixie looked questioningly at Mart and Brian and two returned her gaze. They all nodded their heads in silent agreement. Mart replaced the sheet over the top of the dollhouse and gently slid it back into the dark corner of the attic.