My Grandmother's Pearls
Read a folk tale to my grandson
In which kindness’ reward
Was, whenever the young maiden spoke,
Pearls from her mouth just poured.
Her evil sister’s punishment
Was toads instead of pearls,
The moral fairly obvious
For little boys and girls.
My grandson liked the story
And he understood the gist
But I realized there was something
That he likely might have missed.
For a pearl was unfamiliar,
Both in value and in looks
Though it sometimes does appear
In older fairy story books.
So I took my grandma’s necklace,
With its pearls, so white and cold,
And I held them to the camera
For my grandson to behold.
When bequeathing me her pearls
My grandma couldn’t have a clue
They’d connect to someone great great grand
And more than earn their due.
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