The Hancock-Henderson Quill, Inc.
By Elaine Slater Reese
During the meeting, I looked down at the bright shiny small band of gold on my little finger. The engraved initials are almost worn off now.
The HFW and JLS would probably be impossible to interpret if I didn't know what they were. I can tell that at some point the ring was made larger. I feel so honored to wear it. I hope that my grandmother would be pleased if she knew that I treasure it.
What stories could this little wedding band tell? I never heard about disagreements, but there had to have been some.
The farm must have provided most of the food for the five small children. And Grandma must have sewn their clothes, knitted scarves and mittens.
Did her tears fall on the ring as she mourned the loss of two other children in infancy?
Did she take the ring off when she scrubbed her family's clothes and when she rolled out the pie crust?
Did her fingers grow thinner when the crops failed and she made sure her children ate before she did? I know that she wore the ring for the many years she was alone after Grandpa died.
Here it is, two generations down the road - and this little gold band holds so many memories. It symbolizes a grandpa who died before I was a year old.
I only know him through the stories Grandma shared with me. But even as a small child, I could sense her loneliness and sadness as she talked about him.
From all I've heard and read, they were a couple committed to God, to each other, and to their family.
There is something so sacred and special about my wearing this ring. It reminds me that what is given in love does not die. Love is contagious.
It spreads - it continues. Wearing the wedding ring that united them, I have stood at the tombstone of these two people.
Two generations later I am blessed to be the one with their little band of gold - the symbol of their love and commitment to each other.
They are gone, but the love they shared did not die. It has just been passed on.