The snow globe

It was a December tradition for Joanie and Irv: Put up the artificial silver Christmas tree, trim it with gaudy ornaments, and scatter a few holiday knick-knacks and holiday cards across the mantel of the fireplace.

The final piece of the decorating puzzle was loading three new Double-A batteries into the small snow globe, aka “Mr. Globe.” Then, with a flick of a switch, a light would come on and initiate an aquatic glitter spray, engulfing the small white snowman, a trio of green trees and lone brown reindeer in a mini winter wonderland.

This time, however, there was nothing.

Despite a double check of the batteries, a slap on the bottom of the globe’s base and a vigorous shake, the light wouldn’t come on and, therefore, the faux snow wouldn’t fall.

“Well, dang,” said Irv, eying the globe with a concerned look. “I’m afraid Mr. Globe finally crapped out.”

Joanie took the sphere from Irv, jiggled the switch, and tried in vain to make it work.

Still no light … still no fake snowstorm.

“This is sad,” she said, gently placing Mr. Globe on the floor. “He’s been part of our Christmases for what … nine years? Ten years?”

“I’m sure it’s been 10 years,” Irv said. “I remember going to Discount Dude’s to get some wrapping paper and saw it while I was checking out. I think it cost $2.99. That was our first Christmas together, and we were decorating on a budget. Three bucks for a snow globe was too good a deal to pass up. But we definitely got our money’s worth out of it.”

Irv picked up the globe, walked to the wastebasket in the kitchen, and dropped it in.

“Goodbye, Mr. Globe,” he said. “You served us well, good sir.”

Joanie frowned.

“Aw, man … are you just gonna throw him away?” she asked in a disappointed tone.

Irv shrugged.

“Well, I mean, he’s broken. And let’s face it, something that cheap probably shouldn’t have lasted more than a year, anyway. We can get another one … a better one. I imagine Discount Dude has a wide selection.”

Joanie pulled out her phone and began scrolling through the  photo library. After a few flicks of her finger, she chuckled.

“Irv, come check this out,” she said.

The photo, from 2020, showed Mr. Globe on the steps of their front porch, framed by real falling snow.

“That was Mr. Globe in an actual snowstorm,” she said. “He’d given us snow inside the house, so it seemed only fair he got to experience it himself.”

The couple sat down on the couch, scooted close together, and continued to glance through the pics.

An image from 2017 showed their ancient cat, Edison, peering intently inside the globe.

“He looks like he’s trying to get to that reindeer,” Irv said softly. “Edison was a great cat … I still miss him.”

Turns out Mr. Globe had popped up in a multitude of photos. Sometimes it was merely in the background, but on other occasions it shared star billing with people and pets.

After Edison was gone the new cat, Carver, liked to tap the globe’s base with its paws. And it was a popular selfie prop for friends and family members.

“I love this one of your Uncle Thatch where he’s pretending to lick the globe,” Joanie said. “Well, maybe he wasn’t pretending. Your uncle was a weird dude. I loved him, but he was strange.”

After reaching the end of the feed Irv rose, stretched, and walked back to the kitchen. Joanie heard some rustling coming from the wastebasket, and when Irv returned, he had Mr. Globe in his hand.

He surveyed the mantel and placed it next to the scented mistletoe candle.

“Ah, what the heck,” Irv chortled. “It’s the same snowman, same reindeer and same trees. Let’s pretend the snow stopped and it’s getting dark outside, and we decided to let Mr. Globe warm up by the fire.”