The colour was as bright, it seemed to him, as when he had first seen it in the store. There had been ribbons of all colours laid out on the shelf in the Mercantile, but he had known right away which one would be for her. The beautiful pink one, that was it. He didn't have much money back then, not to spare for luxuries, that was certain, but her birthday… there had to be something special for her birthday.

Oh, how her eyes had lit up when she saw it. And that dancing smile. It would have been worth everything he had in the world to bring that smile to her face.

She had looked so pretty with the ribbon in her hair, just as he had known she would. Those lovely brown curls of hers, so soft, so soft against his cheek as he had held her close to him…

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," he said. The door opened and Teresa came into the room, a shirt in her hand.

"I've mended that for you, Jelly," she smiled at the old man.

"Well, thank you," Jelly's words were simple but Teresa could hear the real appreciation in his voice. She crossed the room and placed the folded shirt on the shelf. As she came back, she looked curiously at the length of pink ribbon Jelly was holding. It was very faded, old. She wondered what it was. Or what it had been? That was a strange wistfulness on Jelly's face. Sad, but some happiness there too, it seemed to her.

"Is that something special, Jelly?" she asked.

"It's my little Susie's hair ribbon. My little girl," he explained. "Long gone now."

"Your daughter?" Teresa was surprised. She hadn't heard of Jelly having a wife or family. It struck her suddenly that, much as they loved him, there was a great deal about Jelly that the Lancer family didn't know. He was nodding now.

"Yeh. I gave her this for her birthday. Long time ago, 'bout thirty-eight years, as I reckon. Would have been her birthday today," he added.

"How old was she when you gave it to her?"

"Just a year. She only had the one birthday. I lost her and her mama both to the scarlet fever that next summer." He smiled comfortingly at the startled sorrow on Teresa's face. "It's a long time ago," he said again. "Why, she would have been old enough now to be your mama. A long way past little pink ribbons."

Teresa felt the tears coming into her eyes but she knelt down beside the old man and rested her head on his shoulder. Just for a moment she was the granddaughter who had never been. Then she quickly kissed his cheek and slipped out, to give him time with his memories, and before those tears got the better of her. Jelly smiled as he watched her leave. He sure was lucky to have friends like Teresa and the Lancers, he thought to himself. And her hair had felt so soft against his cheek.

...

He folded up the ribbon and put it back in the box where it had been kept so many years. He gave a final glance at the pale strip of sateen, barely any pink left in it now, then replaced the lid and put the box away.

The ribbon was faded. It was the memory that was bright.