A woman, wreaked with sobs, looked at a black, oval music box. Her poor Amelia. Only yesterday she had been there; warm, bubbling with laughter and curiosity. Now she was gone.

It was strange that a ruby had disappeared from the music box. It was as if Amelia herself had taken it with her. The music box had been hand-made. It had a golden "A", inlaid with diamonds, resting above a miniature portrait of Amelia, surrounded by delicate golden vines and flowers, also inlaid with diamonds, and a ruby at the center of each flower. The box had fallen from her dresser when she died.

It broke in half.

Perhaps it symbolized the woman's broken heart.

The woman sobbed even louder as she examined the portrait of her daughter. It looked so real. At first she looked so serious. Then, as the woman looked closer, she could see what Amelia had really been like. The way her eyes looked off to the side made the woman think of how her daughter tried to figure out how the music box worked. Her face was full of wonder, life, and love. How could she have died? She had been so alive, so full of wonder, so happy.

She could have changed the world. If only . . .

If only she had another chance to grow up.

Graphics by Moriah's Web Jewels
©1981 Karen A. Freeman