His Grandmother's Ring

Fern was wearing his grandmother’s ring again. It was a beautiful piece, a pretty pink stone. Hot pink. She had no idea what kind it was. Quartz maybe. Citrine? Possibly. Limestone? Probably not, but it was a superb stone. The ring’s band was magnificent, shaped like leaves. Fern had admired this ring since the first day she met Tim’s grandmother. She felt like four years of dating, and six years of marriage earned her this ring. Tim was on wife number five now; none of them had quite suited. He was always on the look-out for the next one almost the second he tied the knot. It has been twenty-two years since Fern had received this gorgeous ring, Straight from the finger of his favorite relative, on their wedding day. “I always wanted you to have it,” His grandmother told her. “I’m glad it’s yours.” Tim’s newest wife, Claudia, four months new, was working at Sprint with Fern’s daughter, Faith now. Yesterday Claudia asked Faith “Does your mom ever wear Tim’s grandmother’s ring?” Faith knows I always wear it, but she told Claudia she “did not know.” Apparently Tim wants it back “in the family.” The family of four months? He can have it when he’s ready to come home, And not one minute sooner. Fern hardened her heart, Taught by the Master.