There was something magical about the little world. Everything was perfect and silent, and just right. A white pine tree, a white pony, and soft snow upon the ground that all fit into the palm of Emily’s hand. She shook the globe and marveled at the silver-white blizzard covering her perfect, silent world.
        A snow globe.
        A beautiful, magical snow globe, Emily thought, and perfect for a ninth birthday present.
         She set the globe on her windowsill and peered through the window. From her bedroom, Emily looked over the roofs and chimney tops, and row upon row of bustling streets. She traced a finger along the globe, wishing to stroke the little white pony who stood facing her; its front knee held high as if prancing, its tail held aloft as if ready to gallop away.
        “Oh, how I would love to live in your world,” Emily said, and with a start, she backed away.
        She was almost sure the pony tossed its silvery mane.
        “Emily, dearest,” her mother’s voice called from downstairs. “Daisy and Oliver are here to wish you happy birthday.”
        “I’m coming,” Emily yelled back, her heart full of joy at the thought of seeing her very best friends.
        She ran from her room, pausing at the doorway.
        What is that noise? Emily was sure she heard the pony snorting.
        “Emily, please come along. Don’t keep your friends waiting,” Mother called.
Emily raced down the stairs two at a time to greet her favorite friends—her mind still a little fuddled by the pony in the globe.

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