Gemotions

The antique music box, crafted with inlaid mother-of-pearl, sat on the dusty table. Aunt Mildred had called, the tremor in her voice more pronounced than usual. Now she'd come to the house, the ornate box clutched in her hands. Sarah, watching her aunt’s arrival from the kitchen window, felt a lightness bloom in her chest. She had a feeling this wouldn’t be a somber affair.

Sarah hurried to meet her, the aroma of freshly baked bread from the oven preceding her. “Mildred! Come in, come in! I just pulled a loaf out of the oven. Want some?”

Mildred’s eyes, usually clouded with worry, sparkled. “Oh, that sounds lovely, dear. I… I’ve been thinking.” She gently placed the box on the entry table and smiled, a genuine, easy smile that made Sarah’s own mouth curve upwards.

“About what?” Sarah asked, slicing the bread and already considering what jam to serve.

“About letting it go,” Mildred finally said, gesturing at the box. “It could mean so much to someone else, and… well, I know it can be a blessing.”