My Dear Piggy Bank,
Many years ago, my mum gave me a pig. Actually it was a money-box, you. Mother bought you back home because she wanted me to get a habit of saving. Every day I put in a $1 coin and I could feel that you were so happy, shaking your fat body and smiling to me.
Everything was fine until last week, the black Friday. Since you came to our family, I've put you on a desk, a wooden desk. Last Friday, after I put the $1 coin into your mouth, the desk collapsed! ‘bomb!’ The desk was too old to bear your weight! Poor you! I feel so sorry to you!
If I’d checked the desk carefully, you’d have been fine and could accompany me forever. If I hadn't placed you on that desk, you’d have been safe. If I had grabbed you in time when you fell down, you’d have been rescued!
Sorry, my dear little pig. Your mission is completed and I will miss you, forever!
Yours,
Owner