Pockets used to count the things that he put into his pockets.
Then he would lose count because he kept forgetting how many pockets he had, what items he put where, and in which color pockets?
So he went to a doctor to see if the doctor could fix the hole in his pockets.
The doctor just laughed and said, “Boy, I don’t have time for your games. I am a heart doctor, and I take care of people’s hearts.”
Just then, another pocket ripped. “See, Doctor? It’s breaking my heart to know that I need new stuff to put in my pockets, and my pockets are getting too full and ripping!”
“I have to add more pockets to my clothes, and I’m losing count of how many pockets I have! Can you direct me to someone who can fix my pockets because it’s breaking my heart?”
The doctor smiled gently and said, “Well, my dear, I might not be able to fix your pockets, but I think I know someone who can help.”
Pockets nodded, his big eyes hopeful. “How about a fireman? My heart is burning with sadness, and I need to get my pockets fixed right away.”
The doctor thought for a moment and then said, “I think you might be looking for someone who works with clothes, not fire or hearts.”
So, Pockets thanked the doctor and went on his way, feeling a little less hopeful but still determined to find someone who could fix his pockets.
After walking through the town, he finally spotted a kind-looking woman sitting in front of a little shop. The sign above her door read “Stitches and Fixes – Clothes Repair.”
Pockets hurried over to the woman and explained his problem. “Please, can you help me? My pockets keep ripping, and I’m losing count of all the things I carry. I think it’s breaking my heart to know that my pockets can’t hold anything anymore.”
The woman, who was a seamstress, smiled kindly and invited Pockets inside. “Well, let’s see what we can do,” she said. “I can certainly help you patch up your pockets, but there’s something more important we need to think about.”
Pockets looked confused. “More important than fixing my pockets?” he asked, his ears drooping.
The seamstress chuckled softly. “Yes, you see, Pockets, it’s not just about how many things you can carry. The things that truly matter aren’t the ones you keep in your pockets but the ones you keep in your heart.”
Pockets listened carefully. The seamstress continued, “Sometimes, we think we need more and more things, more pockets, to be happy. But happiness comes when we learn how to manage what we already have and value what truly matters. It’s not about how much we carry, but what we choose to carry.”
Pockets blinked. He’d never thought about it that way. “So, you’re saying I don’t need so many pockets?”
The seamstress nodded. “Exactly! You need only as many as you can keep track of, and make sure you fill them with the things that really bring joy and value to your life, like kindness, love, and hope. Those things won’t rip, and they’ll always fit, no matter how big or small your pockets are.”
Pockets smiled for the first time in a long while. “I think I understand now. Maybe I don’t need more pockets after all. I just need to learn how to carry the things that matter most.”
The seamstress got to work, stitching up his pockets and adding a few new ones, just the right amount. When she finished, Pockets looked at his clothes and said, “Thank you, I feel so much better now.”
As he walked out of the shop, Pockets felt a warmth in his heart. His pockets weren’t as full as before, but he felt lighter, like he didn’t need so many things to make him happy.