Eventually Elyse became aware that she was wandering the store alone. Sidney and Sam had gone back to their tasks, leaving her to become lost in the stories of the past that crowded around her. A movement off to the side caught her attention. When she turned, she saw that it was a vanity mirror standing in the box Sam had brought in earlier. It caught the reflection of the ceiling fan overhead, and seemed to beckon to her. Elyse walked carefully over to the box to examine the mirror. It was the kind a lady would place on top of her vanity table. It had three parts hinged together, the outer two of which were smaller and could be folded together over the middle part, or partially opened to brace the center mirror and give one a larger area. When she laid her fingers against the cool glass she was jolted by a strong surge of recognition. This is just like the one my mama used to have, she thought. Then immediately realized it was not at all true. She had spent her childhood in a tiny town on the Texas Gulf Coast. Her father was a brick layer. Beautiful silver-trimmed vanity mirrors were not necessary, and they rarely had anything that wasn't necessary. And yet the mirror was so familiar to her. She could imagine sitting in front of it while someone brushed her hair. As she traced the silver scrollwork around the edges she almost remembered doing that very thing before. Delicate lilies climbed up the sides and draped themselves over the top. If she turned it over she knew there would be a leather backing and writing in gold on the lower left edge. The face that looked back at her from the mirror seemed almost unfamiliar, as if she expected to see something other than her own blue eyes and fair, freckled skin. Feeling a little light headed, Elyse slowly turned the mirror around and was oddly relieved to find the leather back devoid of any lettering. The leather was warm to her touch as she ran her fingers across the surface, feeling the slightly uneven texture caused by years of wear. "Isn't that a lovely piece?" Sam asked. "I just got that whole box of stuff at an estate auction last night. Old man that lived out in the hills, close to Olympia. He died two weeks ago, and his widow couldn't seem to wait to get rid of all his stuff." He reached into the box and brought out a hand mirror and a comb and brush set, trimmed with silver lilies to match the vanity mirror. "She sure wasn't in deep mourning for him, but I don't know why she was so anxious to get rid of these things. They obviously weren't his and they're worth ten times what I paid for them. "Look at this." He reached for a small crystal box. When he lifted the silver lid Elyse heard the light tinkling notes of a happy song. The tune caused a giggle to bubble up before she realized it. It was so familiar she could almost sing along, but the words wouldn't quite come to her; just flashes of children playing and fishes singing. She closed her eyes as feelings of joy pulsed through her. Slowly, she felt the room recede, as if she were being sucked out of it. She had a perfect memory of a lovely dark-haired woman singing to her along with that music box. Then she began to fall. Still clutching the mirror to her chest with one hand, she reached for something to steady herself with the other, as the floor tilted and ebbed. The next thing she knew, she was sitting on the floor with her back against the large carton, the mirror still clamped against her chest. Sam was patting her hand. Thus began a series of events leading Elyse into the land of the paranormal, which would take her on an incredible journey through a maze of unfamiliar memories, emotional dreams and flash backs to a time before she was born. She drew others to her who had similar experiences. They realized they were linked in some way to the Holocaust. Together they discovered their past lives, their connection, and how those lives influenced the way they lived their curren
About the Author: Christa lives in Rector, a sleepy little town in Northeast Arkansas. The big old house she shares with her dog and cat, is slightly haunted. She keeps busy with her writing, website maintenance and volunteer work in the community. Twenty plus years ago, Christa and her husband, Dennis, sold their house in San Diego and moved to Rector, Arkansas. Christa was born there but was raised on the Texas Gulf Coast, only spending time in Rector each summer. It was always "home" to her and soon became home to her husband. Her first husband was military and for the years of their marriage, she enjoyed the adventure of living in different places, including Nuremberg and Kaiserslautern, Germany. A natural student of her environment, she studied people everywhere and when she wasn't working, she was writing, a newsletter, poems, short stories and thousands of beginnings of unfinished novels. When she was earning a living, it was in credit unions wherever they were living. Once she discovered the world of data processing her career changed. For the next fifteen years she was an implementation manager, first training, converting and supporting credit unions through their conversions, later switching to retail systems. She graduated from Clear Creek High School in 1964 in League City, Texas and married her first husband the following year becoming a military wife. Writing has taken over her life. She writes a weekly column for the hometown newspaper, blogs, maintains a few websites and is active in community projects. She co-authored an award winning memoir with friend Lana Swearingen, called "We Were Army Wives" which chronicles the birth of a life-long friendship between the two of them and two more Army wives who met in Germany in 1975. We Were Army Wives was published in 2012.