Miss Kirby owned a Hoover. She had owned Hoover vacuums for as long as she could remember. Never mind her name, she would not own a Kirby sweeper. Or any other brand for that matter ... not for love 'nor money.

But now, after sucking up dirt, dust, tracked in grass clippings and the occasional cobweb, her current model sat stoically in the corner of the dining room, trundled up in small bungee cords as if it were some sort of hostage, or was incarcerated for crimes of sweeping proportions. It was literally falling apart. Ten years of service had taken a toll and it was time for a new one. But she had to laugh, they were both getting old and she spoke aloud to the thing, admonishing it for giving up so soon.

"You done quit on me, ain't ya, 'ol fella? And you know darn well I shouldn't be spendin' money like this just yet, don't you?" Miss Kirby clucked at it like an old hen after unruly chicks. She tossed her patchwork 't.v. watching' throw over it, and resolved to go around to the shops and find another, slightly newer model, first thing in the morning.


Alone, the sweeper shrugged the throw off and shook like a wet pup. He decided to sweep one last time for Miss Kirby. When she finally climbed the steep stairs to her bedroom, the old Hoover employed a few of the mice who lived beneath the staircase, to plug him in, and he went about the old house, catching every corner, going up and across, back and forth over each carpet and rug. His motor purred, it was the rest of him that was weak, but he deftly avoided the antiques ... Hoovers did not damage their owners' furniture. It was a matter of pride. And respect. The mice watched from their safe cubby holes, wary of the sucking power of the old sweeper ... and when he was finished, they unplugged the cord, squeaking with approval as they bundled it up in a circle at his base.

Miss Kirby's tiny Christmas tree was off for the night. But the North Star gleamed in the night sky and all was quiet. All was well. The old Hoover relaxed and leaned back, his time done. He was happy to have been helpful to the woman who was all alone, and thought with awe and wonder of what can be, if you only dare to dream.