My Dad always carried buttons in his pants pockets. I never knew why. Today, while working on a scrapebook page, I remember going through his pockets as a child. Oh no, I never looked for money, it was the other things that he carried that I was interested in. I remember that sometimes he would put his hand in his pocket and rub the buttons together. The size or color of the button didn't matter. They were magical. My father believed that they brought him luck.
I don't think this jar of buttons will fit in my pocket.