Wishing Snow

         I have always loved books. When I was young, I remember reading King of the Wind, The Secret Garden, Brighty of the Grand Canyon, and comic books. Not the superhero type, but Bugs Bunny, Archie, and Tom and Jerry. I still have some of those old favorites, as well as my favorite childhood books. (When it comes to books, I am somewhat of a packrat.) 

         I dream of one day having a two story library filled with all my childhood treasures. With tomes I've traveled the world to find. With interesting old books I discover at yard sales or antique stores. With books I'm given by those who want to find a good home for their grandparent's or parent's acquisitions. My library is paneled in wood, like an old English library. It has a circular staircase leading to the upper story where you can only reach the top shelves with the ladder that runs the entire course of the upper level. Artwork adorns the walls of my sanctuary. The background of the ceiling is painted an iceberg blue with an old map and compass overlay. My desk will sit in front of a diamond paned glass window with stained glass cabochons at some of the diamond junctures. A warm fire casts a cozy, cheery glow throughout the room as snow gently drifts outside the windows. And I'm sitting at my desk, writing.

         I'm not sure why, but a gently falling snow figures prominently in my vision of perfect moments. 

       For me, one of those perfect moments will be when my book is finally featured in a store like Barnes and Noble. It will be Christmas time. I'll be standing outside of the storefront watching as someone places MY book, as the capstone, the shinning star atop a Christmas tree made of books. As I'm looking through the window at the glowing halo of light emanating from my Star-book, snow begins to gently waft down upon the windless air. Passing before street lights, it looks like glistening miniature diamonds. From somewhere I'll hear Christmas Carols. Maybe the smooth rich voice of Johnny Mathis singing "Silver Bells", or "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year". To me, his voice is as much Christmas as Bing Crosby singing "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas".

         I think I got that from my mom. I can still hear those records playing during the holidays. I wish she was still alive to see me now, pursuing my dream of becoming an author. I think she would be very proud of how hard I've worked to make this dream come true. 

         Well, mom, I have debuted my first book, Li'l Bits- The Littlest Giant, and I really like it! It's almost Thanksgiving, and your birthday- Happy Birthday! Just in case you can hear me. I wish that I could autograph a copy for you and wrap it in beautiful paper. I would very much like to see your face when you open it. 

         I guess we'll have to leave that wish for another time.