Whatever happened to pretty hankies?

When was it decided that it was a good idea to cut down trees and grind them up to make products to blow our nose in? What the heck is wrong with using hankies?

Now I must admit that I really hate Kleenix. I have a personal aversion to the feel of it--it's like it leeches the moisture right out of your very protoplasm. I have a similar aversion to flannel sheets and several other things. (I have a niece with the same repulsion, so it must be innate.)

But nevertheless, what's wrong with hankies? In suffering through my current cold, I have been using bandanas as hankies, but they aren't really something you want to flaunt in public. Sadly, you never see anybody carrying pretty hankies anymore. Today, everybody carries disgusting little balls of tissue.

I remember when I was a little kid, I carried a little hanky with me to Sunday School. Mom would tie a dime in the corner for Offering, and always with the admonition, "Now don't lose this." Being the bearer of a dime was a big deal and not to be taken lightly.

Mom would sometimes receive birthday cards from her sisters with a pretty hanky inside. Like most little girls, I learned how to iron by starting out with hankies--Dad's big white ones with colored stripes around the borders and the rest with floral prints or embroidery. There was something satisfying about a neatly stacked pile of fresh hankies.

I have my one-and-only real hanky lying here by my computer. It has scalloped edges embroidered in pink and a floral design in one corner. I don't remember where I got it but it's very old. It would have been perfect for tying a dime in the corner.