The Necklace

I have a necklace that originally belonged to my great-grandmother. I don’t really know much about the man who gave it to her, most of those details have been lost to time. But I know that he wanted to marry her, and that she refused, and it had something to do with religion — ultimately, he did not share her faith. And while I’ve certainly seen many interfaith couples have loving and successful marriages, in this particular case, my great-grandmother discerned that this would not be one of those marriages.

Like I said, I don’t have many details about this man, but I know that she felt she couldn’t marry him because it might jeopardize the souls of her children, and therefore the souls of their children, and their children after them — me. She turned him down because of me.

My great-grandmother never sold that necklace, not even when the Great Depression further reduced her financial circumstances. She kept it, and she gave it to her daughter, who gave it to her daughter, who gave it to me. The necklace is always given with a warning: there is something worse than being poor, worse than being scared, worse even than being desperate. Worse than all of these things is separation from God.

When I wear this necklace, I think about my grandmother and this man she possibly loved a hundred years ago. I think of the many decisions we make every day — large and small, good and bad — that reverberate down through the generations in ways we cannot, at the time, imagine. I think of the God who knows every hair on my head.

“And do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna.” — Matthew 10:28

©LPi