Pearls of Wisdom or What Goes Around Comes Around…The Neck

Pearls of Wisdom or What Goes Around Comes Around…The Neck

When I was a blushing bride of twenty, (brides blushed back then), my husband to be, who was from a very well to do family (from my perspective), gave me a lovely string of pearls for my wedding gift. This surprised me because I simply couldn’t imagine him even entering a jewelry store.

When I subsequently asked him what store they came from the mystery was solved. His mother had picked them out for me. The pearls became my most cherished possession. Not only because I was aware of their worth but because they were part of the biggest day of my life. I always wore them with appreciation and pride whenever I felt the occasion warranted it.

My own mother passed about five years later. From her meager estate, I was given the string of cultured pearls my well-to-do uncle had given her. She had always been duly impressed with what she called her “matched pearls” and their value. Maybe that’s part of the reason I was so attached to mine. On the way back home from the funeral, I stopped to visit my mother’s dearest friend, then residing in another state. They had always been very close when I was growing up and I knew my mother loved her deeply. I choose to give her friend my inherited string of pearls, since I had my own.

Another five years passed, and even after very careful handling, my string of pearls eventually broke. Money was scarce but I finally saved up enough to approach a local jeweler to get them restrung. He was abashed. “Why”, he asked? I was abashed, and not wanting to sound hopelessly sentimental, which I was, I answered “Because of their value, of course.” Moment of truth…my pearls were fake and worthless. There was no other way to put it. I still had them restrung because, to me, they remained

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