4.

wonder

The shop was full of gems. Bright and small, they dazzled me in the warm sunshine. The windows were thrown open, dappled light pouring in through the trees that crowded the small building. A small white cat lounged in the sill, green eyes open to slits and staring at me.

I was astounded by the sizes and shapes and colors of all of the stones. A bowl full of milky white stones shot with color called to me, and I meandered over to them.

At ten years old, I knew to mind my mother. She would get very cross when I did things she told me not to, including shoving my hands into a bowl of expensive items.

As she was bartering with the owner of the shop, she didn't really notice me. The owner was an old woman, her pale yellow hair pulled back into a severe bun and one dark eye was lazy and seemed to follow me. She smiled when she saw me turning the stones over in my hands.

My mother, glancing one at me and then staring hard, hissed my name.

The old woman laughed and said, "Oh no Molly! He's a bright lad. Opals are the stone of love, luck, money and great healing." Her eyes both trained on me now, ancient and wise. "If he's drawn to them, he'll be something special some day, mark my words."

In my foolish youth, I gazed at her with wonder and did a very stupid thing.

I believed her.