This Is the Story of a Backpack and the Little Boy Who Loved It for Nine Years

There was once a small backpack, and in the beginning, it was truly splendid.

Much like Margery Williams’s Velveteen Rabbit, this bag was everything it should be. It had a solar-system print with planets that actually glowed in the dark, a matching lunch bag with clips that made a pleasant click, and padded shoulder straps that slipped on like a hug. The large, securely zippered pockets could hold serious and necessary things, and the diminutive, detailed pockets could hold pencils, keys, and the sort of small secret treasures gathered only in childhood.

The tiniest of Pottery Barn’s Mackenzie line at the time, the backpack was still a bit too big for the 1-year-old for whom it was intended, but that would change soon enough. Before long, this bag would travel from daycare to preschool to elementary school, and to summer camp. It would fly on planes and be stashed under the seats of buses. It would carry sandwiches and sand, water bottles and water balloons. And over nine years, it slowly evolved into more than just an ordinary bag.

This is the story of a backpack and the little boy who loved it.

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