Snow Globe

When I was a sophomore or a junior in high school, Jeffy gave me a gift.  A snow globe that contained a rearing white horse covered in delicately painted porcelain flowers.  The base of the globe also had painted flowers and when you shook it, the interior snowed a sparkling glitter.  When the bottom was wound it would sing, “When you wish upon a star.”

While I loved the gift at the time, I was, I admit, a little embarrassed to admit that I would wind it up and let it sing me to sleep.  After all, I was far too old for that.  But over the years it became one of my favorite possessions.  Each move I made I wrapped it delicately in whatever I could to cushion the fragile glass and prayed it would remain safe.  Even after I got married, on nights when Reggie would come to bed late, I’d twist the mechanism and listen to the song over and over, occasionally even shaking the ball to rain glitter on the horse inside.  When we moved from Alaska, one of the tiny flower petals got chipped and I admit that I got teared up about it.

When I was going through my divorce, it became a habit that at night if I felt lonely or lost or just sad, I’d listen to the song as many times as I needed before drifting off.  It has acted as a talisman of sorts a magic feather that I’ve clung to when all else seemed dark.  An indulgence of my inner child I’ve been reluctant to let go of.

The other night when I curled up in bed in the basement of St. Mary’s house, I suddenly – desperately wanted my snow globe.  I almost laughed about it, because it seems so silly to be nearly thirty and yearning for a musical globe, albeit a beautifully crafted and very lovely one.

It will likely be one of the first things I unpack from storage.  And I’m sure as I plan my new place – it will be one of those items to sit in a place near my bed where I’ll use it often, gaze at it frequently and continue to adore the land it takes me to when I sleep.  It’s funny, the things you miss when you put everything away for awhile.