Teeny tiny Japanese labels, a scant half inch by an inch.
I have kept these in a little glassine envelope, moving from place to place, for the past 30 years. They were my Papa's, part of his childhood stamp collection, and most likely from relatives in Japan.
I think, perhaps, that collecting is a genetic trait, much like green eyes, curling one's tongue, or freckles.
I was born to organize and value old pieces of paper. A curator of the not-quite-valuable, but highly valued.