As a child I was enamored by snow globes. Whether cheap plastic toys with a blue background or glass orbs over intricate designs, I gazed wistfully into the magical miniature world full of wonder. When the blizzard stopped and the snow slowly fell to the bottom, I waited for every last flake to fall before I shook it again.
photo credit: Keshigomu
On our honeymoon almost 15 years ago, my husband bought me a beautiful snow globe. An angel wearing a scarlet velvety gown sheltered baby Jesus. The wind-up music box underneath played Jesus Loves Me.
It was an extravagant gift at the time, and not like my practical, simple self to like a gilded knick-knack. Yet this token reminded me of the wonder of childhood on the threshold of married life.
It is, also, unlike me to cry if something breaks, but when the glass dashed into pieces a few years ago, I wept.
Mopping up the glittery water, I remembered when a nineteen-year-old girl committed to love, honor, and cherish a young man who promised the same. Some questioned whether it would last. Others warned against marrying so young. But a few believed love is stronger than death.
Now in the Christmas aisle of the grocery store, the snow globes enchant my little girls. A fan blows sparkles all over Cinderella and Winter Wonderland blares through a tiny speaker. All this excitement happens with just the push of button. In matronly fashion I say, When I was a child, we had to shake our snow globes. When did they put batteries in these things?
This captive Cinderella either had a blizzard swirling around her or stood in complete serenity. Sometimes I relate to that. My days are a tornado of activity, and the nights are usually calm. I am either in a frenzy of planning and wishing or quietly content.
I like the old snow globes better. The result of your efforts is plainly seen. The snow can gently fall. It isn’t all or nothing. Perhaps the perfect snow globe doesn’t exist any more than a perfect marriage, but many years ago I bet my life that magic and wonder can endure. I chose to risk love. It is rarely easy, but so worthwhile.
Renae teaches her ten-year-old son and two little girls at home. She has prepared lesson plans, enjoyed children’s literature, and delighted in discovery with her children for five years. By studying Principle Approach philosophy, she realized what she always suspected: the Bible lies at the heart of all subjects. Find her reflections at Life Nurturing Education.
-originally published December 15th, 2013