Mom found it in her attic. I was certain I would find treasures in it from the past. After I had lifted everything from the box, I saw it. It hadn't changed. My little mirror from some time ago found its way back into my hand. It was my favorite.

I remember carefully placing it on my nightstand before I went to bed each night. In the morning, when I looked into the glass, I saw my joy.

Now, it somehow seemed smaller. The handle could be completely hidden in my hand. As I turned it around, I saw how the reflection had changed a bit, yet it was the same. After all these years, it still remembered.

My latest find caught her eye. My little daughter decided that it would be perfect for her. It was.

Standing behind her, I looked at the reflection she created. It was strangely familiar. As I looked over her shoulder, and into the glass, more than ever before, I saw my joy.