Through The Innocent Eyes Of A Child

I wrote this about an hour or so ago. I'm quite excited about this one... it has that feel about it.

“Granma, can we look at your gemstones please?” The diminutive face looked up at her with such an excited glow and ‘Granma’ couldn’t resist the request.

“Come on then, you know where they’re kept.”

They went to the parlour together, the little one leading her Granma by the hand. Granma could tell she was trying so very hard to be patient and not pull too much, but the tiny trembling hand belied the good intentions and Granma smiled.

The display cabinet stood in pride of place against the wall opposite the fireplace. Granma took out the key and gave it to her great-granddaughter.

The little girl took the key with an expression of awe.

Granma nodded. “I know, I’ve never allowed you to open it before, but today you may,” she said.

The little girl held the key in both hands. Palms up, fingers outstretched, the key lying in the middle of her hands, she looked down at it and then back up to Granma’s face.

With the reverence the situation commanded, she turned slowly towards the cabinet, stretched up with the key poised before the keyhole for a moment and unlocked the cabinet doors.

Granma’s gem collection rested on a custom-made display lined with jet black velvet.

The little girl stood with her face close to the display, fingertips resting on the shelf on which they stood. “Tell me what they are, Granma,” she said in a whisper.

Granma reached over her great-granddaughter’s head and chose one at random. She never chose the same one first and the story she told about the first stone chosen was always the most detailed of the set.

“These are all uncut stones, I’ve told you this before, haven’t I?”

The little head beneath her arm nodded.

“This one is a ruby. Once cut, it shines a brilliant red, like a fire burns in the centre.” Granma handed the lump of rock to the little girl’s hand, outstretched and waiting to receive the stone.

“I can feel the fire inside it, Granma,” she said, turning it over in her hands, examining it like she’d never seen it before.

When the ruby nestled safely back in place, the next stone came out and the next and next. The same tones described each one and the tiny fingers and bright eyes examined each flaw.

“This is a sapphire, a pearl, a cat’s eye, topaz, amber and your favourite, the unpolished diamond. If you thought the ruby felt warm with the fire inside, I always think this stone feels cold, almost dead,” Granma said.

“Tell me about your favourite, Granma,” she said as the uncut diamond sat safely in its place once more.

“My favourite is this one, the emerald,” she said, taking out the stone. It was the only cut and polished stone in the whole collection.

“Tell me ALL about it, Granma,” the little girl said and settled down for the story.

“This one is my favourite, as you know. It is the only one your great-granpa cut and polished before he gave it to me and that is why it’s my favourite.” She didn’t hand the stone over to the little girl to hold and the girl didn’t hold out her hands in expectation. Granma never allowed her to hold this stone.

“That’s not the only reason it’s your favourite, is it?”

“No, you’re right. I think today is the day I’ll show you why.”

Granma took out a jeweller’s eyepiece and wedged it in her eye socket so she could study the stone’s clarity. Once satisfied, she handed the eyepiece to her great-granddaughter who put it into her own eye socket. Granma held the emerald steady so the girl could study it properly.

“I can see things moving on the stone,” she said in a breathless whisper. "What are they?”

"Great-granpa called them ‘humans’.”

Images from Pixabay

challenge30 for @dragosroua Link Here