"The Christmas Mirror" (Image and Text Copyright Wylddane Productions, LLC)
The living room was quiet except for the soft crackle of the fire and the faint hum of Christmas carols drifting from the radio. Outside, snow gently fell, blanketing the world in a quiet, wintry hush. Inside, the tree sparkled with lights, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. It was a peaceful Christmas Eve, and the house felt as it always did during the holidays—full of love and memory.
John sat on the old, worn couch by the window, a steaming cup of cocoa cradled between his hands. His eyes flicked over to the large mirror that hung above the buffet. It wasn’t anything particularly special—just a simple antique frame with a slightly tarnished surface. Yet, every Christmas Eve, it seemed to hold a magic all its own. There was something about it that always made him pause, something that drew him in, even without trying.
He had spent many Christmases in this house, but this one felt different. The years had passed, and with them, so much had changed. His parents, now gone, had once filled their family home with laughter and warmth. His old dog, Lassie, the border collie mix who used to chase him around the yard every holiday season, was now a fond memory, her trusting brown eyes a memory of his heart. And his Maine Coon cat, CJ, who would curl up by the tree and swat at the ornaments, had disappeared into the world of memory too.
John sighed softly, leaning forward, his gaze lingering on the mirror. He had never really understood what it was about this reflective surface that always made him feel as though he could step back in time. But tonight, he felt it again—the pull, the quiet invitation. Maybe it was just the nostalgia of the season, but as he looked into the glass, he could have sworn the reflection was different.
For a moment, his own image blurred, and in its place, he saw a younger version of himself. He was standing in this very room, his arms loaded with gifts for under the tree. Laughter filled the air. A fire in the fireplace crackled merrily in the background. Friends and family were gathered together toasting the night with wine and champagne...the dining table loaded with delicious food. A cold night with snow drifting slowly past the window. CJ, perched on the windowsill, blinked lazily at the flurry outside.
The image shifted. He saw himself laughing at the antics of his little nieces and nephews. There were moments like this, little snapshots of joy—of friendship, of family, of a time when everything seemed so simple, so whole.
A few more seconds passed, and the mirror seemed to show more. There was a holiday dinner, the table stretching out with platters of food, laughter echoing around the room. A multitude of friends and family all gathered together with plates piled high, glasses raised in celebration.
And then, the most magical image of all appeared: the pets. Lassie, bounding in with her usual exuberance, her tail wagging furiously. CJ, his long fur gleaming under the tree lights, trying to bat at a ribbon dangling from one of the lower branches. And even the old cat that had come before CJ, Harry, who had a habit of knocking things off the mantel every year—his mischievous face peering out from under the tree.
John's heart swelled with love, bittersweet and full. These memories were his treasures, woven into the very fabric of who he was. The mirror—this simple, unremarkable thing—had somehow captured them all. Not just the memories, but the feelings—the laughter, the warmth, the scent of pine and cinnamon in the air, the joy of being surrounded by those who loved him.
“Ringggg”
He turned and picked up the phone. "Merry Christmas!" was the exuberant greeting from a dear friend.
John smiled, the warmth of the memories still lingering. He set down his cocoa and said "Merry Christmas, it's so good to hear from you. You know, I was sitting here just…remembering Christmases in the past.”
And so the evening progressed...
All too soon on this magical night it was time to go to bed and he glanced one last time at the mirror. It had stopped reflecting the past, its surface clear again. But John knew, deep down, that it would always hold those memories—those moments of love, of togetherness, of family and friends and pets that had shaped his life.
And somehow, he knew those memories would always be there, just like the magic of Christmas, shining brightly, even when the years moved forward.
~Wylddane
John sat on the old, worn couch by the window, a steaming cup of cocoa cradled between his hands. His eyes flicked over to the large mirror that hung above the buffet. It wasn’t anything particularly special—just a simple antique frame with a slightly tarnished surface. Yet, every Christmas Eve, it seemed to hold a magic all its own. There was something about it that always made him pause, something that drew him in, even without trying.
He had spent many Christmases in this house, but this one felt different. The years had passed, and with them, so much had changed. His parents, now gone, had once filled their family home with laughter and warmth. His old dog, Lassie, the border collie mix who used to chase him around the yard every holiday season, was now a fond memory, her trusting brown eyes a memory of his heart. And his Maine Coon cat, CJ, who would curl up by the tree and swat at the ornaments, had disappeared into the world of memory too.
John sighed softly, leaning forward, his gaze lingering on the mirror. He had never really understood what it was about this reflective surface that always made him feel as though he could step back in time. But tonight, he felt it again—the pull, the quiet invitation. Maybe it was just the nostalgia of the season, but as he looked into the glass, he could have sworn the reflection was different.
For a moment, his own image blurred, and in its place, he saw a younger version of himself. He was standing in this very room, his arms loaded with gifts for under the tree. Laughter filled the air. A fire in the fireplace crackled merrily in the background. Friends and family were gathered together toasting the night with wine and champagne...the dining table loaded with delicious food. A cold night with snow drifting slowly past the window. CJ, perched on the windowsill, blinked lazily at the flurry outside.
The image shifted. He saw himself laughing at the antics of his little nieces and nephews. There were moments like this, little snapshots of joy—of friendship, of family, of a time when everything seemed so simple, so whole.
A few more seconds passed, and the mirror seemed to show more. There was a holiday dinner, the table stretching out with platters of food, laughter echoing around the room. A multitude of friends and family all gathered together with plates piled high, glasses raised in celebration.
And then, the most magical image of all appeared: the pets. Lassie, bounding in with her usual exuberance, her tail wagging furiously. CJ, his long fur gleaming under the tree lights, trying to bat at a ribbon dangling from one of the lower branches. And even the old cat that had come before CJ, Harry, who had a habit of knocking things off the mantel every year—his mischievous face peering out from under the tree.
John's heart swelled with love, bittersweet and full. These memories were his treasures, woven into the very fabric of who he was. The mirror—this simple, unremarkable thing—had somehow captured them all. Not just the memories, but the feelings—the laughter, the warmth, the scent of pine and cinnamon in the air, the joy of being surrounded by those who loved him.
“Ringggg”
He turned and picked up the phone. "Merry Christmas!" was the exuberant greeting from a dear friend.
John smiled, the warmth of the memories still lingering. He set down his cocoa and said "Merry Christmas, it's so good to hear from you. You know, I was sitting here just…remembering Christmases in the past.”
And so the evening progressed...
All too soon on this magical night it was time to go to bed and he glanced one last time at the mirror. It had stopped reflecting the past, its surface clear again. But John knew, deep down, that it would always hold those memories—those moments of love, of togetherness, of family and friends and pets that had shaped his life.
And somehow, he knew those memories would always be there, just like the magic of Christmas, shining brightly, even when the years moved forward.
~Wylddane
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