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An endearing memory told to me by someone very close.

Years ago, before little brothers, farm houses, more extravagant lifestyles and divorce a very young girl learned a very valuable lesson about the importance of thought.

In a small town, in a rather small house, two children, of the same age, awoke with the sun and raced towards a brightly lit Christmas tree downstairs. The one girl ravished through her gifts while the other unwrapped them slowly. Precisely placing them lovingly in a neat pile beside her. Even then, so alike yet so different.

Mother and Father arose with the delighted squeals projecting through the walls. They made their way to where their twins sat content and happy with their shiny, new possessions. Beside the one girl -who was much more of a “girly girl” then the other- was a box-set of 12 beautiful earrings fit for the princess she was. A gift hand-picked especially for her by her Father. A present he was proud of until Mother informed him that their daughters ears were not pierced. Even at such a young, impressionable age the girl knew that her Father felt as though he’d failed her. He’d thought they were tiny broaches to pin to her blouses. How was a young Father to know about young girls jewelry? As intuitive as she was, she was charmed at her Father’s attempt at making her dreams come true that morning.

She tucked the gift away in a safe place. There was never an occasion grand enough to wear them out.