The Mirror

Aiko sat beside her grandfather, Otoosan, while rain tapped against the kitchen window. He opened a small wooden box and lifted out a round, silver-backed mirror. Its handle was dark with age, and a tiny scratch crossed one corner of the glass. “This belonged to your great-grandmother,” he said. “She carried it when she came to this country. When you look into it, you see your face. But remember: you are also looking at the people and choices that helped make you who you are.” Aiko turned the mirror over in her hands. “It’s beautiful,” she said, though she felt unsure why he had chosen her to receive it. She had expected a story, perhaps, but not a gift that looked so ordinary. Otoosan pointed to the scratch. “Your great-grandmother noticed that mark on her first day here. She kept the mirror through hard times and happy ones. Your grandmother used it before performances, and your mother held it while telling family stories.” Aiko looked into the glass. At first she saw only her own face and the window behind her. Then she pictured the other hands that had held the mirror. Its surface did not show the past, but it made the past feel close. She slipped it carefully into her pocket. “I’ll keep it safe,” she said. Otoosan smiled. “And one day, you can decide what story you will add to it.”

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