Here is my story and it is true.
When my first child was just a toddler we spent long days living in the country, miles from any town. Around us were fields and woods and a scattering of neighbors down the road. My daughter was happy playing cheerfully with something that only she could see and which she termed “the Bamboozie”. Often I would hear her playing on her swingset and laughing merrily. Once, looking out, I thought I had a glimpse of a small child with dark hair but there was nothing there.
One day a friend came from the city for a weekend visit and brought with her some fabric and notions so I could help her make a party dress. We measured, cut pinned, etc and fitted the dress to our satisfaction. This took place in a little sewing room where all needed equipment was set up. The zipper was laid on an ironing board and when it was time to pin the zipper in, Lo, it was gone. We took the room apart and at last made a 10 mile trip into a nearby town and purchased another zipper. The dress was soon finished.
About a week later I was walking past the open door of my sewing room when I saw what looked like a little man about 2 feet tall. He had black hair that reminded me of baby hair. His face was brown and his eyes had the shape of glittering black apple seeds. In his hand was the zipper~! Seeing it, I cried out and he was no longer there. But the zipper was lying on the floor.