From afar, Earth is a marble of blue, green and brown shrouded by an ever-changing, wispy cocoon of white. Zooming in, this placid jewel turns more rugged as mountains, rivers and roads come into view. At night, bright webs of light electrify the darkened land.
I can’t recall the number of hours that my sister, Poppy, and I would spend studying the model of Earth we created with the shared magic of our Creation Books. The model allowed us to observe the happenings on the planet—past or present. (It also had a future mode, though Poppy was the only one brave enough to explore the endless possibilities that untamed time had to offer.)
We loved to walk around the model’s crystal-like shell, touching the areas we wanted to explore further. Like pilots of a drone, we would focus in closer and closer, following highways, zipping down streets, streaking between skyscrapers.
How busy and noisy the encapsulated scene would become as the sidewalk came into view. All of a sudden the peacefully sleeping world would spring to life—a cacophonous monster of bustling energy.
Our favorite time to explore this world of sensory overload was during the Christmas season. The lights, the decorations, the cheer seemed to make even the gruffest city magical.
Usually, I shied away from such public settings, preferring quiet time by the fireplace instead. Poppy, my mirrored soul, was addicted to excitement, and the chaos of city life was her favorite fix. Despite these differing preferences, we both adored the holiday vistas we savored via our de facto viewing orb.
Thus, it should come as no surprise that on Christmas Eve, the Eve when we celebrated our holiday of Winter Wish, we would find ourselves in front of our model Earth one more time, holding hands as we watched the snow fall on city streets of the world we so loved to eavesdrop on.
We wondered what the people of Earth wished for on their holiday eve. Perhaps they were like us, envisioning what their world could be if only more would embrace the light of the season. Perhaps some wanted nothing more than to keep their families together and to provide for their needs. Perhaps others longed for families they had yet to have. Too many, no doubt, longed for nothing more than to be safe and warm.
Our worlds have always been a jumble of needs, wants and desires—many that go unmet. Most of the time it all seems like an ugly, complicated, unsolvable mess. The wonder of the holidays is that it lets us see our respective worlds in a different light, giving us renewed hope.
As Poppy and I turned away, the snowy scene we had been watching faded, returning our model Earth to the way it appears from space—a serene, sacred orb, stunning to behold.
—Jellybean Reds, Creator of Little Creatures
Happy holidays! May your Christmas be white, your Hanukkah bright and your week of Kwanzaa, a time of great insight.
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Peace on Earth Collection – ALBUM