It was a simple red swing that hung on the front porch of the late Mildred Miller's home a block off Powderhorn Park in Minneapolis, just big enough for a grandma and several squirming grandkids.
But because of some miscommunication among family members, it was sold at a yard sale during the neighborhood's annual May Day festivities.
Some family members were crushed and launched an online campaign to recover the swing. "We are heartbroken that such an iconic symbol of our beloved Mildred is lost from our family," wrote daughter-in-law Shari Albers.
Within 24 hours of her post on that Powderhorn Issues Forum, "a kind woman from across Powderhorn Lake" had offered to return the swing.
That means Miller's eight grandchildren and their 10 children may get a chance to read to their grandkids on it some day.
Miller died last October at 94. She became a fixture on the porch of the house, which she and her late husband bought in 1965, greeting neighbors, reading or writing poetry. In fact, she almost named the collection of poems she published at around age 80 after the red swing, Albers said, and several poems refer to it.
"Whenever it wasn't winter, she was on it," Albers said.
The job of cleaning out the house fell to sons Bob and David. Relatives claimed bookcases, tables, chairs, letters, her collection of buttons. Everything claimed was supposed to have been tagged before the sale. The swing lacked a tag, and Bob Miller figured the next owner of the house would probably junk it.