This a short documentary story written on June 18, 2005,
in the memory of Sacha, Paula, and Amalia
to their children and grandchildren.
Introduction
Every person has a story to tell. Every story has an element of history. There more than one definition of the history. It is a 'his story' or 'her story' of an event, which is making the history. In this story I will refer to the continuum of events that were occurring in succession leading from the past to the present, and, who knows, even into the future.
The small size ring on the Ina's left hand was different from the merchandise you usually see in the jewelry stores. Even with a brief look you would thing that it is different and, probably, it is special; and, of course, every special object of design or an accessory piece of an unusual presents would have a mystery meaning and a story to tell.
Part 1: Sasha and His Daughter
In one ordinary spring day of nineteen-sixty-eight, on the weekend, after the breakfast, approximately at 11 o'clock am, Sasha asked his daughter, Ina, if she would be so kind and join him to take a walk-in town. The offer was too good to turn off. The day was gorgeous, one of a kind. The snow on the side of the walking streets has been melting under the strong, bright sun. The old trees at the Krishian Barona street were leafless, but the branches had the strength and power to deliver the birth of the baby leaves. At this time of the year, the trees have the great wood aroma and if you touch them your fingers would feel the moist and the stickiness of clay, which you have to rub off.
Sasha stopped at the Sakta store. We passed the gifts section. our destination had been the Jewelry section of the store that had a display of alpaca, silver, pearls, precious stones, and gold. Sasha greets the salesgirl. Her name is Ina Perlow. Sasha asked for a ring for his daughter, without any special occasion. Wow, that would be for me! All the 'good' rings are in big sizes. What is new?! The small size ones do not make the statement. No worth to invest the money into them. Mrs. Ina Perlow recommended a beautiful ring with a very dark red stone. It looked like a garnet, but it was an elegant ruby with 'a secret.' It would be giving away the beautiful transformation of color changes and stone shines only if the person would be in a positive statement of mood.
Well, the ring was purchased for me. I was sweet fifteen, and according to the reference books on human body development, I was still growing. Meantime, my mother was wearing it on her middle finger. It was a little too big for her, too.
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