The Music Box

Daily writing prompt

Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a youth. What became of it?

1/10/2026

6:00 pm

This was an interesting writing prompt that immediately caught my attention.

Memories of the music box came flooding forward.

I was about 13 or 14 years old at the time. My grandparents had gone to visit my Uncle in Colorado for a little while and when they came back I was given this pretty little music box for the birthday they had missed while away.

It was wrapped up in this tan colored southwest print bandana and tied with a ribbon.

The music box was a clear acrylic box that contained some flowers and a butterfly on the inside. It would flutter when the music played.

The mechanism of the music box could be seen underneath and was contained in a clear box as well.

I found a similar one on Etsy but it had a different tune and the flowers in mine were blue and white with a monarch butterfly.

I remember when they gave it too me, intently watching my reaction. I had this huge smile on my face when I watched the butterfly move around. My grandparents were pleased that I liked it. I miss them so much.

I remember turning the key and watching the little butterfly flutter among the flowers. Butterflies, especially Monarch butterflies, have always been my favorite, I got a butterfly tattoo on my shoulder when I was 34.

The tune was “Sunrise, Sunset” by Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick from the Broadway musical “Fiddler on the Roof”. That last part I had to look up because I have never seen this musical, did not know the lyrics, and only knew the tune. A new musical to add to my ever growing list of things to watch.

That music box traveled with me everywhere from the age of 13 onward until my mid 30’s. I was married by then and the clear box had gotten broken during our move to a new house. It was open and the mechanism inside was damaged. It wasn’t just damaged though, the butterfly on the small wire was bent and the flowers were torn off. It seemed intentional.

I remember opening the moving box up and seeing it broken. I just stood there, holding it, and crying. My parents and my husband thought I was being “too dramatic” and “it’s just a music box” is what was said to me.

I do not have proof that my mother broke it but she was the only other person helping to pack up our house. I remember her asking me as we packed, “You still have this old thing?” as she held the music box.

It was the only remaining present I had from my grandparents. My grandpa passed away when I was fifteen and my grandma passed away the year I turned 30. My youngest child was the last one my grandma got to see before passing away on Mother’s Day that same year.

After my parents had left, my then husband asked me about it. I told him who gave it to me and how long I had it. He felt bad about it being broken and took it to someone that may have been able to fix it. That’s when it was discovered that some of the teeth on the comb was missing or bent. The mechanism was underneath in a separate clear box before it was packed. Afterwards, the whole box was in pieces.

I remember it fondly and also remember the day I received it.

My grandparents were stopping by on their way home from their trip to Colorado. They had been gone for a while visiting relatives. They left before my birthday and told my mother they had presents for us, my half-sisters and I.

My sisters were given stuffed animals and t-shirts. I was given the music box which upset my sisters. They had said it was unfair but grandma reminded them that it was for my birthday. My mother made a promise to buy them some other things to calm the situation.

Afterwards, every time I tried to play the music box, I was told to stop by my mother and her husband. I was threatened with having it taken away or thrown in the trash. I never understood why, it was not a loud sound and lasted less than a minute. It was not intrusive in any way. I eventually would only play it when no one was around and would hide it away.

The music box traveled with me when I was in the military to the other side of the world and back. I eventually bought a few more music boxes along the way but they too were eventually lost along the way.

I have not had a music box since.

As I was writing this, the thought of how much I miss my grandparent was at the forefront. They were good people. Kind, caring, and compassionate. They took care of me and loved me. All the best parts of me were encouraged and supported by them. My own mother never treated me that way.

As I was looking up the song information, I listened to the actual song which I had never done before. I only knew the tune.

I found the lyrics to be rather ironic. Irony in the fact that it was a song introduced to me by my grandparents. A melody that caused such havoc with my own mother, their daughter. Yet, the song is about a child growing up and the passing of time.

I found it to be fitting for the beginning of another new year.

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“Sunrise, sunset” by Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick

Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset

Is this the little girl I carried?
Is this the little boy at play?
I don’t remember growing older
When did they?

When did she get to be a beauty?
When did he grow to be so tall?
Wasn’t it yesterday that they were small?

Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly flow the days
Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers
Blossoming even as they gaze

Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears

Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Sheldon Harnick / Lewis Bock Jerrold