Today at the Birch Street Nursing Home I helped Mrs. Patterson write her will. She said she didn't have much left, thanks to the thieving Mrs. Shimshack, but wanted to be sure what she had went to the right people. Most of her possessions will go to her friends at the Birch Street Nursing Home. Her little bedside clock will go to Mr. Oliveras, her cane to Mr. Pearlman, and her unused portion of medication to Mrs. Henley. Mrs. Patterson suddenly pulled me close to her and whispered that she had one item of tremendous value. "I've taken great pains to keep it hidden all these years," she said. "Even keeping it from the greedy hands of Mrs. Shimshack." Before she would reveal the item to me, she made me close my eyes. Several minutes passed before she allowed me to open them again, but when I finally did, she was holding a beautiful jeweled brooch. She told me her husband gave it to her on their first wedding anniversary, and she wished to be buried in it. "So I'll be wearing it when my husband and I are reunited," she said. She made me close my eyes again while she put it away so that I wouldn't see where she keeps it hidden.
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