Marisol’s Magic Mirror Trip
By
Valerie L. Egar
Marisol
knew she had curly chestnut hair, blue eyes and dimples. These weren’t likely
to change, so she didn’t look in the mirror every time she walked by. She could
find her face and wash it without a mirror’s help. She even fixed her hair
without a mirror. A quick shake of her head and her short curly hair fell into
place perfectly. Marisol didn’t care much about mirrors, until she saw the
Venetian glass mirror in Aunt Lucy’s house.
“This
is where you’ll sleep,” Aunt Lucy said, opening the door to a large room. A
large antique bed with a lacy canopy and embroidered coverlet looked soft and
inviting. Marisol sat on the bed to test it and saw the mirror on the wall
across from the bed. Small mirrors, in the shapes of scrolls and shields,
surrounded a large oval mirror. Sunlight danced on the glass and the room
sparkled. Marisol took a closer look.
She
saw the mirror was old— silver had worn off a few tiny spots. Each small mirror
was etched with flowers and vines and glowed like small jewels.
“You
like the mirror,” said Aunt Lucy.
Marisol nodded.
“A castle?”
“More like a big
house. A mansion.”
“How old is it?”
Aunt Lucy
shrugged. “Three hundred years? Something like that.”
That
night, instead of going to sleep Marisol sat in bed and stared at the mirror.
Moonlight shone through the window and instead of throwing sparkles like the
sunlight, it made a silver path into the mirror. Marisol followed the path and
found herself floating like a feather in the wind.
“Oh!”
She
landed with a thump next to a wide canal and noticed men standing at the back
of narrow boats, guiding them through the canal. “I think those are gondolas,”
thought Marisol. “I must be in Venice.” She looked around.
People lined up,
waiting for a gondola. They appeared to be dressed for a costume party. The
women wore old-fashioned long silk dresses trimmed with jewels. The men wore
colorful brocade jackets with fancy shirts trimmed with lace and fitted dark
pants. Everybody wore masks.
Marisol realized
she must look out of place in her blue pajamas, and looked at her clothes. She
was wearing a sea green silk gown, trimmed with gold. She also wore a mask. She
stood in line with the others.
“Ah, you are
British,” he said.
“I’m American.”
“What is American?”
he asked. “You are from the colony so far away?”
Marisol looked
around again. She realized there were no electric lights in any building. Here
and there, a lantern burned. In the distance, someone carried a torch. No motors
hummed. No TVs blared.
“What year is it?”
The man laughed. “1706.” He helped Marisol into a gondola. “Tonight you
will enjoy the finest party of the year at Palazzo Leoni. You will see a
special marvel the Doge unveils tonight.”
Music filled the
air from the palazzo’s open windows as Marisol stepped from the gondola.
Violins played a lively tune. The ballroom was lit with hundreds of candles in
silver candelabras and chandeliers. People danced. Marisol stood at the edge of
the room and watched. She enjoyed the spectacle,
but she worried how she was
going to get home. “I have to find the mirror,” she thought, suspecting it was
close by.
The music stopped.
A man stood at the front of the room. Next to him, a large oval was covered with
fabric. He said something Marisol couldn’t understand and pulled the fabric
off. The mirror! This was the marvel people had come to see.
“Not yet,” said
Marisol.
She followed the
candlelight’s gleam into the mirror and landed, thump! back into bed.
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Copyright 2018 by Valerie L. Egar. May not be copied or reproduced without permission from the author.
Published March 11, 2018 Journal Tribune Sunday (Biddeford, ME).
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