Pawnshop

 

“We have to do it. There is no other way.” William said to his wife, Ella. “But they are the last symbol of my parents. I cannot part with them.” Ella scorned. William was dismayed and felt guilty for asking his wife to give her jewelry to the pawnshop for money. But the forest fires and famines told another story, the story of poverty in every household in the village. There were grains available in the neighboring village, but they couldn’t afford it, not yet. He finally told Ella, “Our daughter hasn’t eaten in 2 days. How will she survive? I wouldn’t ask you if this wasn’t our last resort.” She looked at her child and thought, “I should sacrifice the last symbol of my parents love for me for my love for my child.” She agreed to go to the pawnshop with him the next day.

The following day when they arrived, Ella looked across the shop and saw dozens of items. There were gold earrings with detailed bohemian designs, there was an iron statue of Greek God of Zeus, there was a vintage wine glass with intricate architecture, there were stamp collections from the 1800s and there were brass and copper coins which no longer qualified as currency. Looking at all those beautiful things she thought, “Memories aren’t things, they are stories. Stories associated with those things. You can get rid of the things but the love in the memories stays forever.”