Snow Globe

The antique globe takes up a lot of space. The glass cylinder scrolled with intricate brass; ten inches tall - looks out of place.

I am a minimalist now. Wabi Sabi reigns in warm beiges and soothing greens.

But the snowy globe was protected from the purge, by an enthralling enchantment, several decades old.

Shake it gently and look carefully. See Santa and his reindeer fly over a winter scene, of brightly hued houses, stores, and a church, framed with towering pines, all laden with glittering snow.

Listen closely and you can almost hear bells jingle and Santa’s booming “Ho, ho, ho”!

As a child, I was not allowed to touch it. Gazing from a safe distance, I would long to watch it snow – to feel the cold flakes on my face. To run down the streets, pet the little dogs and shout “Santa’s in the sky. Look, look, he is there!”

I could play with the other kids. We would tussle and laugh. Throw snowballs at each other, dodging, sliding, shouting “Ha, I got you!” Then press our noses to the bakery window to ogle the pies and cakes, finding coins in our pockets to try one or two.

Covered in snow, I would run home for hot chocolate by the fire, my cheeks pink, and fingers red – “ahh that tastes good.” There would be a Christmas tree bright with lights, surrounded by presents, all mostly mine!

It would always be Christmas, with brimming good cheer and magic afoot.