The headless dancer

I have a small collection of willow tree figures. Each was given to me at an important milestone in my life. When I look at them, I am reminded of the most important and special moments in my life, and the dear people who gave them to me. One day Gavin was throwing a ball around the house. I asked him to stop and said "Something is going to get broken. We only play with the ball outside."
The moment I finished my sentence Gavin launched the ball into the air. It seemed to move in slow motion and I knew what was coming. It smashed right into my shelf, knocking down three of my figures. I heard the crash and new one had to be broken. Sure enough it was my little dancer. She had been decapitated.

I was quite distraught, and Gavin could see that. He was really sweet and actually very concerned. He looked and searched for a way to fix it.  He gave me hugs and kisses.  It was so sweet.   I looked and looked for the head, but it was nowhere to be found. We eventually gave up the search. I knew the head had to be stuck behind the shelf and would show up eventually.
So for the next couple months my dancer sat headless on the shelf. Over that time it actually became kind of funny, and was a great conversation piece for people who visited.  When I would dust and came to that shelf it started to make me smile as I looked at my headless dancer. I would remember Gavin's little face, so full of concern that he broke something, and how he was devastated when we couldn't find the head.  It just became symbolic of my rambunctious, compassionate little boy.
A couple of days ago I was pulling out a book off a shelf and out popped the head!  I was surprised, and quite excited. Now she is waiting to get some superglue to hold her back together. However, I think I will miss my headless dancer. The simple experience reminded me that things are just things and they don't really matter. My greatest treasure and memories are the little boys right in front of me.