The tiny music box has no monetary value. It probably cost a couple of dollars when it was new. It’s just a novelty, really, not a real music box. You turn the hand crank and it plays “Happy Birthday.” That’s it.
But as I experienced another birthday today, nothing made me happier — if only briefly — than this little piece of cheap metal and plastic.
Why? It has nothing to do with the device itself. There are a million similar things out there which I wouldn’t even notice. So why this one?
It was a birthday gift from a woman who used to love me. It was part of a box of whimsical delights that she spent an afternoon carefully selecting for me in the past. I still have the box and the music-maker and a few other things.
I keep them because such tiny objects have the power to hold onto love — and playing that silly little box allowed me to feel loved by her again. Just for a minute.
Next, this city is going to be selling lemonade and holding bake sales
A muse is a crutch for an artist, but some need a crutch to walk
Goodbye, Sonny
I grew up knowing that my mother was beautiful.
We’re neither friends nor enemies, just strangers who share the past
‘This path leads to somewhere I think I can finally say, I’m home’
Society needs storytellers to help make sense of a changing world
When love finally dies, it’s like a fever breaks and the pain is gone