I had always liked the hat pin with the blue butterfly. It has a sharp point at the bottom, though, so Mama never let me touch it. That was what I wanted. The butterfly hat pin. I pointed to it.
“It’s yours, Willa. Merry Christmas.”
I felt a smile tug at me, and I lifted the hat pin from the velvety place where it had been lying. It felt warm in my hands. And not dangerous at all. I ran my finger across the butterfly’s silvery blue wings. Each side looked like half a heart.
I looked up at Maggie. “Which one do you want?”
Maggie looked into the box. She took out a cameo pin. The little lady made of white had pretty hair, all piled on her head like a queen. Mama told me once her grandmother had given her that pin.
“And Evie?” I said.
“Which one do you think Evie would like?” Maggie said.
I pointed to a hair comb with pale roses on it. I knew Evie had just gotten two new hair combs, but they weren’t like this one. This one had been Mama’s.
“Perfect,” Maggie said, and she handed it to me. “Let’s go put it by her bed so she will see it when she comes upstairs tonight. You can take some of your drawing paper and color a little Christmas tree and I’ll write, ‘Merry Christmas, Evie. With love, from Mama,’ on it.”
So we did.
Then I took the hat pin to my room. I sat with it for a while. I got my new doll out from under my bed, and I slid the pin into her curls. So now she has a sparkly butterfly in her hair. And she looks beautiful.
