Non Emergency Jar

On my mantle, I have a jar.

In this jar, I keep something special. For emergencies only.

Guests barely notice it. If they do they chuckle saying, what a cute decoration.

I'd say thanks, It was a gift.

On long days and lonely nights I would stare at the jar. Longing to open it.

On evenings so quiet it's deafening, the jar yells at me. Open me. Use me.

But I refuse. It's only for emergencies.

This jar had been in my family since before coming to the new world. No one knows the origins, just the essence of the old country.

Growing up I would stare at the contents of the jar, longing.

My grandmother would pull me away, my father would smack my hand for even twitching at it.

But I am the last one. Until I go and my children take it ...unless of course an emergency occurs.

My children don't even notice it. They run by it every day, never sparing it a glance. A part of me never wants to tell them about it. Let them think it's just a decoration. Is it selfish? Did my father think that? and his parents before him.

I was 6 when I asked about it and was told the story.

My children are way passed that age. Maybe when they are grown and I am old I shall tell them.

or not...

I'm sitting in my reading chair next to the fire. Reading a nice book, when a knock draws my attention.

Open me. Use me.

Not today. It's not an emergency.

It was not an emergency when grandma fell down the stairs and broke her hip. It wasn't an emergency when father lost the house. It wasn't an emergency when my husband suddenly passed away. And a quiet lonely night isn't an emergency now.

little knocking

Open me. Use me.

Not today, little mantle jar.

knock, knock.

My youngest shuffled into the room "Ma?"

"Yes sweetie."

"I can't sleep."

Knock, knock. The jar shook, but then stilled.

"Ok I'll tuck you in"

Knock Knock.

Then time slowed.

The jar was closer to the edge than I realized. The tiny knocking I had desperately tried to ignore.

It tipped.

I tried to catch it.

I really did.

It shattered on the ground.

Just then my youngest said, "I wish I could sleep"

In horror I heard a tiny bell laugh. Then my child, my baby. Fell asleep. Right on the floor.

I screamed.

My other children raced in.

They see me clinching their sibling, crying. Wake up baby, wake up.

They finally notice the jar. Shattered on the floor. only for a moment they wonder where the insides have gone. It was just old,busted glass.

My baby, Wake up.

Bell laughter echoed away, taking our shattered soul with it.

Payment...for the non emergency.