Wondrous Memories of a Child's Past

So far, my summer has had a bad start. I am deciding to try and brighten it up (or lose all sense of it) in this post.


You see the picture above? That is the picture of my favorite childhood memory: my Anastasia music box. No it is not the real music box, although I hope to someday acquire one. It is the toy version which toy-makers produced for little girls, (maybe even boys) like myself, who yearned for the little music box shown in the 1997 film titled, "Anastasia", featuring the voices of Meg Ryan (Anastasia) and John Cusack (Dimitri). Although the movie was fictional, it was a fantastic children movie based on the mysterious Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov. It creates a story of a grandmother, so sure of her granddaughter's escape from the filthy hands of Rasputin, waiting for her to return to her rightful home - to her grandmother and the palace. Dimitri and his friend, Vladimir I think, find this homeless girl, Anastasia. They decide to present her to the heart-broken grandmother, and find that she is the real princess.
Yes, happy ending. Normally I dislike happy endings, but this one was a nice one.

Why would someone keep something so insignificant? The little doll that spun around to the music has been misplaced (I took her off for my barbies), the tinfoil mirror has been removed (I have vague recollections of this), and it is scratched up, the paint slowly wearing off. My reason? It brings back cherished memories of simple, wondrous times with my dear mother.
When I was just 6 years old, my mother would walk me down the street to the bus stop, holding my hand all along the way. We would play the music box, rewinding it completely, and then dance along to the music. I know, sounds silly, right? Not to me. It was something sweet and meaningful. To me, it shows how much my mother really cares for me. It made me feel special, and loved. It was a little bit of light in a dark period of time. I thank my mom for that; for still finding a way to make me feel so loved and cared for, although life wasn't so grand at that time.

It seems funny that I'm posting something like this today; on a day that I don't feel so loved. On a day that I've wrecked for my mom, who in turn wrecked it for me. But, I have no one to blame but myself for this disastrous day. I wrecked it myself. I hope maybe the sun will come out for her; she always loves it when the sun comes out.

I love you, mom. Thank you very much for loving me.