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Aug 152014
Reading Time: 6 minutes

Friday Story

The Family Jewels

By Maria Mar


treasure-chest-with-pearlsSarah refused to give in.
Why should that hustler get anything? Why would she give that thief the Family Jewels that had been bought with so much sacrifice by her dad and kept by her mother as their heirloom? Why? Because he married her younger sister? Hell no!
—“He fooled her, but he’s not fooling me,” Sarah fumed.
And yet, there was a part of her who resisted taking action. Any action.
Sarah could not understand why she was paralyzed. Was it fear? Anger?
The situation was simple. This hustler had married Gwen for her money, and now that she was dead, Sarah could do what she was not able to do when Gwen was alive; cut him loose.
She had watched as Gwen dwindled while the hustler thrived. But now he’ll get what was coming to him.
—”Who does he think he is, intruding into our family like that, taking advantage of my sick sister like that; and now he wants what’s legally his? What a nerve!” Sarah fumed. “I agree. He should get what he deserves. A big piece of nothing!”
So why did she hesitate? Why was this heavy pain seating on her heart, not letting her take action?  Unwilling to seat and do nothing, Sarah got up and followed the trail of pain.
She entered an old winery, where the grapes had long dried and died and all that remained were shriveled old shrubs.
She followed the dust road to an old abandoned house. She grabbed the doorknob and pulled, but the knob came out. Sarah looked at her hand, expecting to see the rusty knob. Instead she found a wooden key.
She looked at the door again. It was a new red wooden door with a huge keyhole. Sarah entered the wooden key and the door unlocked, opening with a long, aching screech.

Inside there were pools of light coming from tiny windows in the upper levels. These pools of light dotted the dark room and Sarah remembered.
Her mother had a black dress with white polka dots. Little Sarah kept imagining that the colors changed, that the dress was shiny white with black polka dots. She’d like that much better. She’d like a happy mother; a mother that smiled.
But she shouldn’t think those thoughts. Her mother was sick, and she should be a good daughter. She should help her sick mother. She should not want a different mother. That was selfish. She would not betray her mother.
So she brought her mom lemonade and sat on the porch with her all day. She did not mind. She loved her mother.
Her big brother came home all sweaty from working on the mines. He smiled and deposited some gold nuggets on his mother’s hands.
“We’re doing fine,” her mother said, nodding as she rocked in her rocking chair.
Her big sister came home exhausted from working on the hospital. She smiled and deposited many dollars on her mother’s hands.
“We’re doing fine,” her mother said, nodding as she rocked in her rocking chair.
Her two middle brothers, twins, came home dripped in grapefruit. It looked as if they were bleeding. They had been working on the winery from sunrise to sunset, and they deposited some gold coins on her mother’s hands.
“We’re doing fine,” her mother said, nodding as she rocked in her rocking chair.
“And I?” she said to her mother when they had all gone inside to tidy up for dinner.
“What about you?” her mother said with that sad, tired tone she now talked.
“What do I have to give you?” little Sarah said, worried. “How can I help so that we are all fine?”
“You brought me lemonade,” her mother said sadly.
That sadness could only mean that the lemonade was not enough, little Sarah thought. She had not nodded. She had not said that they were doing fine.
“That’s not enough!” little Sarah complained.
“Then you take care of your little sister,” her mother said sadly. “You take care of Gwen. You do that, and we’ll all be fine.”
“I promise,” little Sarah said fiercely, crossing her heart.
“But I failed,” Sarah whispered as she found herself standing across the room, looking at the pools of light.
–“I could not take care of Gwen when she got sick,” Sarah said sadly. “That hustler came into her life and married her for her money. How could he love that sick woman, so frail she could barely be embraced? How could he truly love that woman, who was twice his age? No. He married her for her money, and he did not let me take care of her.”
–“He stole my sister from me,” Sarah cried. “He is not going to steal her jewels now!”
She heard steps on the second floor and turned towards the door that led to the stairs.
It was an old beaten down door, almost falling apart. She pulled the doorknob, but it came loose and in her hand there was an iron key. She looked at the old door, but it was now an iron gate.
Sarah introduced the iron key and the iron gate opened with a terrible shriek.
The stairs were illumined from the top by a beam of amber light filtered through a skylight. It must be sunset already.
The steps seemed to float by themselves, as the risers where engulfed in darkness. They curled around the empty space like a necklace around the neck of darkness.
She was looking at a beautiful necklace. The crimson slabs where intersected by beautiful diamonds and it curled around her mother’s neck.
“It’s beautiful!” Sarah said admiringly.
“It is my friend,” her mother said.
Sarah was confused. She had thought that friends were people.
“It is my ally,” her mother said.
“What is an ally?” Sarah wanted to know.
“For a woman, jewels are an ally,” her mother explained in her sad drone.
“Why?” Sarah wanted to know.
“Because a woman does not have her own money,” her mother said. “But the jewels you are given are your property. They are yours. They are your ticket to freedom. They are your passage through widowhood. They are your emergency toolkit. They are your treasure. Yours alone.”
–“And now that thief wants to steal them!” Sarah muttered between tight lips. “I won’t let him!”
She climbed the stairs with one thought only: to snatch the Family Jewels from the thief.
But there was yet another old door on the top of the stairs. Sarah grabbed the handle furiously, but the knob came off.
Just as before, the knob became a key; a metal key. The door was now a strange metallic sheet, so shiny that it was like a mirror.
Sarah took a step backwards when she saw the image reflected in that mirror.
It was a frightened little girl with a big bloody knife.
Sarah dropped the metal key and almost fell back down the stairs.
She steadied her balance and picked up the key gain, decided to end this theft once and for all.
She opened the mirror door and found a man crying over a bundle. She could not see who the man was, for his back was to the door. She could not see what the bundle was because it was behind the man.
Could the bundle be the Family Jewels?
But why would he be crying over it, if he got them?
Slowly, silently, Sarah approached.
The crying man was the hustler.
What was he crying over?
Sarah faced them and looked into the man’s arm.
Then the man looked up, and Sarah saw a frightened child in the man’s arm.
“They’ve taken everything I have,” the man said furiously. “But I’m not going to let them get away with the theft. I won’t die a pauper.”
And Sarah saw that the frightened child was the man.
And as she looked at that child, she got a glimpse at the mirror door, and there again was that frightened little girl with a bloody knife.
“I’ll take care of Gwen,” she said, advancing towards the man who could not see her or hear her.
“We’ll be fine again, don’t worry,” she sweetly said to Sarah, as she raised the knife , the sharp edge shining against the light.
Sarah plunged towards the man and knocked him over.
She grabbed the frightened little girl and disarmed her.
“Yes, little Sarah, we will be fine,” Sarah said crying. “We have always been fine. You don’t have to protect Gwen anymore. You don’t have to defend these jewels anymore. There is more than enough for all of us now.”
And as Sarah hugged the child she had been the house dissolved around her. She felt her heart again.
She felt her joy again.
She realized that the old ruin of a house had been her heart, carrying her old stories, her fear, her promise.
With a long exhalation, Sarah let go of that old house, of those old stories, of that old promise; and as she did her heart became as radiant as a jewel.
At that moment she saw her mother’s spirit dancing around her, wearing a radiant white dress with black polka dots.
Sarah saw that each the dark dot was a window into the mystery of life.
“This is the way to be fine,” her mother said as she laughed and danced. “This is the new promise I want you to make.”
“What do you mean?” Sarah wanted to know.
“Love the wonder of your life,” her mother said singing with joy. “Love the mystery and the magic that each day brings.”
“And the jewels?” Sarah wanted to know.
“You are the jewel!” her mother said and disappeared in a whirlwind of light.

~The End~

Maria Mar©2014
New York, NY
Shamanic Teaching: The magic of your Infinite Inner Treasure is a shamanic teaching that allows you to release learned stories, fears and limitations that keep you imprisoned in the past, repeating fear-based responses and feeling impoverished or disempowered. When you retrieve your Infinite Inner Treasure you realize that you are the treasure, you are the radiant jewel and you have all the riches, talents and tools you need to create the life you want. To learn more, subscribe to my Tribe to get notices of new stories, shamanic tools and events.

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About Maria Mar

Maria Mar is a Sacred Storyteller and shaman who champions you to change your old limiting story to create the new story of your brilliance illuminating the world. She helps you awaken your magic, express your creative genius, embody your purpose and live your potential now.

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