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Another Gems From The Heart Story Contest Entry

mom was not the type of woman to own makeup or jewelry, but she did
have a few items my dad had given her in a small jewelry box in her
bedroom. Whenever her and my dad would go out when I was a child I
would sneak into her bedroom and try on this one ring she had, just a
small gold band with a tiny amethyst and a chip of a diamond. She
passed away after battling breast cancer for 7 years when I was 13.
That day I  went into her room and put on her amethyst
ring and I’ve worn it every day since (I’m 27 now). It’s pretty banged
up from catching it on doors and I’ve since chipped the stone, but it’s
still a piece of me and I wouldn’t give it up even if I was being
robbed. I wrote this poem about the ring back in college in a creative
writing class and would like to share it with your readers….


Small Lady                                                     


Tiptoe into her room          

A magnificent box

towers over you.

Open the glass door.

Rubies, opals, diamonds

and one small amethyst.

Put it on

small lady

then dance

around the room

spinning, twirling.

Be like your mother

so grown up.

With a ring like that you can do anything.

Put it back

so no one knows

you’ve been there.

Wait till you’re older

they will all say.


Small lady

You’re older now

but are you old enough

to take care of a family

clean your house

cook your meals?

Well you have to be

small lady

because your mother,

she’s gone now.

The cancer

ate her alive.

Go ahead, scream

through piercing silence

that it is not true.

Shatter that glass on the floor.

It will not change the truth.

You are alone now.


Tiptoe into her room again.

Open the glass door

to the magnificent box

that no longer

towers over you.

Go ahead

take out the amethyst.

Put it on.

Can you still do anything

with a ring like that?

Small lady

you are no longer small.

Now you are grown up.

You have to be.