Just a Snow Globe

The following is a fictional story that became a part of our family history when my son Andrew thought it was real and the snow globe. Of course I went on line to find a globe and gave it to him for Christmas.

 Just a Cabin Snow Globe
Christmas was drawing near. I searched the attic until I found the old trunk filled with antique and fragile Christmas ornament heirlooms. They were bulbs that we’d stored away when the children were growing up. We feared that they’d be damaged or broken. Many had been handed down through several generations and were irreplaceable.
As our children grew, tree decorations became handmade Santas, cotton ball lambs, angels, candy canes, handprint ornaments, and Popsicle snowflakes. These child-inspired works of Christmas art became our holiday precious treasures. Now the children were gone, their ornaments were gone, and so was my wife.
Feeling the need to recapture and resurrect a happier time in my life, I looked for the trunk. I decided a Christmas tree might brighten my empty home. It was the first time in several years that I was feeling the need, and that old trunk held many reminders of our happier moments.
The tree was small. Soon it was festooned with the old fragile heirlooms and filled with just as many fragile memories. From among the wrappings, I pulled out plastic sleigh, reindeer, and Santa,. I gave its old spot on top of the bookcase. The ceramic Crèche was centered in its special place on the mantelpiece. I thought the storage trunk was empty until I spotted the shine of light on the curved surface of the snow globe.
Carefully I removed it from its wrappings. The globe had been hand blown. It was old before my wife and I bought it at a small antique shop. Inside was a small cabin nestled among several evergreens that would disappear in swirls of snow when the globe was shaken.
As my wife Cindy lifted it from its shelf, she said, “I love it. I’d like to live in a place like that someday.” So, we bought the globe.
In the past, I’d occasionally shake it to watch the snowstorm; I never really looked closely at it. I was about to shake it again when a small speck of color caught my eye. I’d never noticed it before and donned my glasses for a closer examination.
Surprised, I almost dropped the globe. Standing in the open doorway of the cabin was a woman, the same shape and coloration as Cindy. Her hand was raised in a wave. As I cradled the glass globe, I smiled a sad smile. She was finally in the cabin of her dreams.