Tuesday, December 29, 2009
The Rose Ring
One of my earliest memories. I was 4, at Happyland Preschool in Mrs Abbots class.The weekend before, I picked out a ring from the Date Festival. It was the most valuable thing I owned. It was a beautiful rose, and my mom got me the smallest size available. Still, it was loose and often fell off my finger. My mom didn't want me to take it to school, she was afraid I would lose it. Well, she was right. I lost it, I panicked. I looked through the sand in the sand box, by the swings, I looked until we had to go inside. A few minutes later, I see it, on Kenneth Bowmans pinky. I told him it was mine and to give it back, he refused. He got punched in the stomach, he cried. Mrs Abbot, took the ring, then I cried. When my mom came to pick me up that day, Mrs Abbot told my mother about the ring and about the punching incident. My mom made me apologize to Kenneth (even though I really believed he deserved it) and off we went. My mom kept the ring in her purse and reminded me why she didn't want me to take it to school. My response to her was, "it wasn't my fault, the wind blew it off my finger" At the time, I thought that was a good enough story. It wasn't. When she eventually did give me my ring back I lost it again. It was gone for good. I have since been fixated with rose rings. Now, I have one, and even better, its adjustable.