This is today's Chicken Soup for the Soul email. It is somewhat lengthy, if you have the time to read
it, I think you will enjoy it:
By Rachel Wallace-Oberle
"Oh, I love your diamond," Janet said admiringly as we
served lunch to the children in the school gym. "It's
beautiful."
"Thanks," I said, and then I confessed. "It's not
real; it's just a cubic zirconia."
Her eyes widened. "Wow. I would never have guessed."
I have always had a passion for collecting fine
jewelry, but I also own a few quality fake pieces, which
generally fool everyone. Janet eyed my large sparkling
ring. "I've never owned anything like that," she sighed,
looking down at the plain thin wedding band on her hand.
We finished serving the children their Thanksgiving
turkey lunch, but Janet's words stayed with me. I knew she
and her husband could not afford even the small luxuries of
life; they are a Christian family who lives down the street
with four boys, and they work hard to make ends meet.
The idea of giving my ring to Janet came to me the
next day. I pushed it away immediately. Although the 14-
carat gold ring was only a cubic zirconia, I liked it and
wore it often with my wedding band. The thought of
knocking on Janet's door and presenting her with my ring
seemed ridiculous. I tried to shrug the notion off, but
the thought persisted. It bothered me for a week. I had
no peace until finally I prayed: "Lord, if this is
something you want me to do, I'll do it, but please go with
me and let her be home when I go." I reasoned that if I
knocked on the door and Janet wasn't home, which she often
wasn't, I would take it as a sign that I didn't have to
part with my ring. I felt a little better but was still
unenthusiastic about this errand.
The next morning I put the ring in its little blue
velvet box, wrapped it up in tissue paper and walked down
the street to Janet's house, my heart pounding. 'She'll
think I'm crazy,' I thought. 'What kind of neighbor gives
someone a 14-carat gold ring? I don't even know her that
well.'
I felt like turning around and going home but forced
myself to climb the steps to Janet's house. I knocked
quietly on the door. No one answered. I stood on her
porch, waiting uncomfortably. Knock again, God's spirit
prompted. Reluctantly I knocked again. No one answered.
I felt the stirrings of relief. Maybe she was away
and I could forget about this whole thing. Just as I stood
there contemplating my escape, I heard the doorknob rattle.
Janet looked incredibly surprised to see me. "Hi," she
greeted me.
"Good morning," I said, struggling not to blush with
discomfort. I handed her the small package. "I have
something for you."
She looked astounded. "For me?"
I nodded. "The Lord has been telling me all week to
give this to you."
She took it and as her fingers closed over the
contours of the box, she realized what it was. To my
immense surprise, her eyes filled with tears and her hands
began to shake. "No," her voice quavered. "I can't accept
this. It's too much. I can't accept this."
An immense peace and joy descended upon me there on
Janet's front porch. "You're my sister in Christ and I
want you to have it," I said, unable to keep the delight
from spreading over my face.
Janet unwrapped the ring and cried. I hugged her, my
eyes full of tears. She hugged me back. It took a bit of
convincing on my part, but she finally agreed to keep the
ring. "If you ever change your mind, just tell me and I'll
give it back," she promised. It was a few sizes too small
for her, so I told her to have it adjusted at the nearby
jewelry store, which had extremely reasonable prices.
I thought that was the end of the story, but several
weeks later as I was walking past Janet's house, she flew
out the door, across the porch and out to the sidewalk.
"I have a present for you," she said breathlessly.
She thrust a little package at me.
"Janet, you don't have to do that," I protested.
"Open it," she said, grinning.
I opened it and found a little blue velvet box with my
ring in it. I looked up at her, puzzled and slightly
disappointed that she had chosen not to keep it.
"I went to the jewelry store you told me about to get
it sized," she explained, "but the clerk didn't think it
would be good for the claws and setting to enlarge it that
many sizes. I was devastated. I finally had something
beautiful and I couldn't even wear it."
Janet's smile was incongruent with her story.
"I don't understand," I admitted.
On the sidewalk, in the late afternoon, with the sun
slanting through the maple tree in Janet's yard, she told
me what had happened. For years, her set of wedding bands
had lain in a dresser drawer in her bedroom. She had lost
the diamond solitaire, and the rings needed repairs and
sizing. It was a gorgeous antique set but she had been
unable to wear it. Every Mother's Day, birthday and
Christmas, she had quietly gone to that dresser drawer and
examined her rings, hoping her husband had surprised her by
getting them fixed. And every time she went to the drawer,
she was disappointed. Repairing and restoring the rings
were simply too expensive. She and her husband had
received estimates from jewelers of nearly one thousand
dollars for the work. They couldn't afford to spend their
money on something so frivolous. My gift had touched her
heart, but what she wanted most was to wear her own wedding
bands.
On a whim, Janet asked the clerk in the jewelry store
about getting her wedding rings fixed. She had given up
hope that it would ever happen. It had never occurred to
her to consider a synthetic gem - until now. Janet's rings
were sized and repaired and the center stone replaced with
a cubic zirconia for under $100. She held her hand out to
show me. Her rings sparkled in the sunlight. Rows of
glittering diamonds encircled a solitaire that flashed with
brilliant fire. They were stunning.
"For the first time in seven years, I am wearing my
rings again," she said, her voice breaking. "Thank you for
your gift. Thank you more than you'll ever know - but
these are the only rings I really want."
I walked home in a daze. It took quite a while for
the whole extraordinary sequence of events to sink in. I
have concluded that God's intricate plans are altogether
too incredible to anticipate or comprehend. The next time
He wants to entwine my life with another, I will do as He
asks - without questions, without doubts - and with trust.