"Pretty Shiny Things"

You like rings.

You love them.

You like buying them out of the bubblegum machine at the drug store, as they only costs 25 cents apiece.

They are pretty: pretty shiny things, gaudy and so big on your fingers that you can only wear 2 or 3 at a time. And you would love to wear 5 at a time. That would be high fashion right there, you see.

But you find that your drug store rings don’t last very long. The band of your favorite one, a bright turquoise one that reflects the sunlight just right, turns from gold to a dirty silver with time. It leaves an ugly green ring around your finger when you take it off. It takes awhile for the stain to wear off. And you notice that the more you look at it, the more self-conscious of it you are.

The other rings, you like them too, but they don’t really last as long either. One is too tight and tends to cut you. It makes you bleed. Another cracks if you mistakenly hit it against something. Yet another one just falls apart for no reason.

And then your father comes along and says he has bought you a ring. You are happy and excited. You open the pretty package presented to you, and your smile melts into a frown. It’s not big and pretty like your drugstore rings.

Not a pretty shiny thing at all.

You take it out of the box and hold it between your index finger and thumb. You place it on your finger. You hold your hand out, fingers stretched wide. You consider it.

“It’s a diamond ring,” your father says.


You nod your head. It is pretty enough. The solitaire stone is chiseled on all sides. The diamond is clear as drinking water. The platinum band is shiny, and it fits your finger just right.

"Only the very best for you, sweetie," your father says, his grin broad and toothy. "I had it made special, just for you."

The ring is less gaudy than the ones you buy in a drug store, that's for sure. You can’t even purchase it there. There are not enough quarters in the mason jar you keep in the bottom of your dresser to buy it. And you can’t quite sashay around with it on.
It probably won’t get the attention from your friends that you love.

But you notice that it matches all of your outfits perfectly. It doesn’t turn your finger green. It fits your finger perfectly, never cutting it.

It doesn’t fall apart, that’s for sure.

Over time, you begin to love it.

This ring is indeed a pretty shiny thing afterall.

You go and thank your father for it.

For he knew exactly what you needed in the first place.

Even before you could understand within yourself what that need was.

He truly did.