I grew up with a statue of the Infant of Prague on my nightstand, which when we moved to where we live now was placed on my daughter’s nightstand. It was a little worn these last few years … a nick here, a chip there, and the loosely placed crown (on top the moulded crown that was part of the stature itself) made from palm leaves is missing in action, though maybe in a box or drawer somewhere.
But yesterday, while I slept in my daughter’s room (which I do sometimes, with her being at her mom’s and our bedroom too hot to comfortably sleep for my taste), I heard a crash. In the morning I found it mostly intact, but with a chunk slit off of the crown. The cross on top was mostly gone, and fingers were missing.
I decided to bury it that evening near where Merry keeps her flower pots and tomato plant next to the building, near the fire pit and bench. It seemed discomforting to Merry to bury it, and yet she agreed it was the most approriate thing to do.