The String of Pearls

                                                        The String of Pearls 
        If only I could talk, the stories I could tell would warm even the coldest of hearts. The day I made my first debut is as clear in my mind as if it was only yesterday. I can still feel the kind softness of tender hands as they gently stroked my smooth hard pearly shells. Everybody was in awe of me that day as I the radiant bride draped me proudly around her neck. As my day of glory ended I was lovingly placed in a soft blue velvet pouch and placed in a drawer.
  I loved to be taken out and shown off at fancy dinner parties and glittering social occasions and many is the outing I partook in during those carefree days. As time moved on the outings became less frequent and I spent more time nestled in my pouch. One day out of the blue and to my great surprise I found myself being picked up once more. I soon found a tiny hand tugging at me along with the hand caressing me and not only that people were admiring the tiny person instead of me!!!
  Every few years I would grace such an occasion, be it a christening a communion or a confirmation I would be there. Most people hardly noticed me now, none the less I loved my outings. Although I was glad to be in the sanctuary of my blue pouch safe from small hands.
  I was often lonely on my own, from my pouch  I could hear the sounds of family life .The echoes of children’s laughter  and playful squeals surrounded me  ,in time turning  into teenage arguments and the loud  bizarre  shrills of this thing called music. I heard many words said in anger but also many kind and loving words exchanged.
One morning,  following a lengthy spell in the drawer I was once more been lifted out ,my shell ,although now faded and worn was been stroked by another gentle hand. I knew instinctively this was the same hand that had tugged at  me all those years ago. Once again I was pride of place on the bride’s neck and being admired by all.Occasionly over the years I was brought out to enhance the beauty of other happy brides.
In the fullness of time the house took on very quiet but peaceful air broken every so often by the sound of a new generation of children’s voices. One evening I noticed the house seemed more noisy than usual with children’s voices mixing with the tone of adult voices. To my delight I was once again been taken out, I knew the hands stroking me now, although frail and knarled where the same hands that had embraced me on my first debut. There was laughter and merriment that night as young and old rejoiced in fifty years of happy marriage and memories.
As night turned into morning I was tenderly placed back in my blue soft  velvet pouch, but joining me was my much younger comrade ,a replica of myself who had made her debut  on the wrist of tonight’s bride .Together we would spend the rest of our days sharing the same loving companionship as that very first bride and groom.