She was the first person beyond my family that I encountered first thing Saturday morning. We chatted about the weather, the emergency drought situation, the fire on the next building just before the holidays.
She was wearing her usual black and whites, which I have found to be always stylish, classic, and so very much a part of who she is as I have gotten to know her. Her hair was short. She complained that she has not had time for a proper treatment lately, with the holiday rush and her visit to her family in Texas over the holidays. I have never seen her with a “bad hair day.” So her standards for good grooming must be quite high.
She called my attention again to my pearl earrings. They are simple, with a tiny diamond stud at the bottom of the pearl. My grandmother had given them to me almost 40 years ago, I mentioned.
She cooed. “An heirloom! Wow. That makes it even more precious and beautiful.”
I supposed it is even more beautiful, for the memories of a person and at time that it carries with it.
Then she told me about a bracelet she received from a neighbor when she was 9 years old. The bracelet was a gold bangle with a ruby imbedded at its center. It had belonged to her neighbor’s wife who had passed away after a protracted illness. The neighbor was a kindly old man who would sit out on his porch and wait for her when she came home from school. He would offer her some lemonade and cookies. He knew she’d be ravenous after school. She in turn would tell her about her day, her schoolmates, her teachers. This was their ritual for a few years.
When he gave her the bracelet, she was so touched. He had told her he wanted to give her something one afternoon. He took something wrapped in a felt cloth from his pocket and carefully unwrapped it in front of her. He put it on her right wrist and told her to enjoy it for him. She ran home that afternoon to show it to her mother. She walked over to the neighbor’s house and thanked him profusely.
Years went by and they moved away from that neighborhood. The old man passed on too. But my friend has kept the bracelet.
Now, it was my turn to coo! “An heirloom, no less!” I declared.
She looked at me and paused from stirring her coffee. “Yes, it WAS. Sadly, I wore it to a friend’s wedding last year and somehow, it fell off my wrist. I went back to the reception the next morning but it was nowhere to be found.”
Inspired by the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: The Luckiest People