I skipped down the pebble stone walkway, waiting for my brother. Finally, after a short wait, he arrived not long behind me. It was my eighth birthday and he always did something special for me. He blindfolded me and guided me down towards the end of the walkway.

It was getting chilly and I had been shivering for quite a while before we reached this place. I reached for his hand and he took his other hand and untied the blindfold. The soft, red satin blindfold flowed down my cheeks, resting in his hand. He unlocked the baby blue colored gate in front of us and I followed him. As I shut the door behind me, he pulled out a chair from the metal table. And from there I sat in the middle of a dark rose garden.

On the table in front of me he positioned a white, polka-dotted box. A “Special Box,” he had told me. I unwrapped the shiny bow, removed the top half of the box; there was a small necklace inside of the box. It was long and silver. From the chain held a paper that read: “Inside this Irish Capsule, you breathe your darkest wishes and dreams. Forever they will be held in secrecy.” Incredible. My very own Special Box.