My mom gave me her old phone because she bought a new one.
It barely worked.
The screen had a crack, the battery died quickly, and the camera was terrible.
I almost threw it away.
Then I opened the photo gallery.
There were hundreds of pictures I'd never seen.
Family dinners.
Old birthdays.
My childhood.
Even pictures of me sleeping on the couch when I was little.
I sat there scrolling for almost an hour.
Then I found one of my dad laughing at the dinner table.
I hadn't seen that picture in years.
I saved it.
I never fixed the phone.
I kept it exactly as it was.
Sometimes broken things still hold something worth keeping.
It started raining while I was walking home.
I didn't have an umbrella.
A man standing outside a shop noticed.
He handed me his.
I said, "What about you?"
He shrugged.
"I live nearby."
I thanked him and went home.
The next morning, I returned the umbrella to the shop.
The man wasn't there.
I left it with the cashier and wrote a note.
"Thanks for yesterday."
A few days later, I walked past the shop again.
The cashier called me over.
She handed me the same umbrella.
There was another note attached.
"Keep it. Someone else might need it."
I smiled.
I kept the umbrella.
And I've lent it out more times than I can remember.