Shared Blessings

Boromir couldn’t help peeking curiously as Gimli rummaged through his pack.

“Are those extra socks? I wish I’d thought to bring some.”

“Three pairs, carried all this way at my mother’s insistence. You know how it is easier, sometimes, to just agree with your mother, rather than argue?”

Boromir’s laugh was wistful. “I was but a boy when I lost my mother, though I have heard many horrifying tales of, shall I say, overexuberant protectiveness. Still, they are fine looking socks, thick and warm.”

“Do you think they might fit? I’d happily share, from my mother, on behalf of yours.”