It's Mother's day. A pudgy little Boy of four or five hands a clumsily wrapped gift to his mother. Most likely an older sister had offered to help him wrap the gift. But chances are he instead on doing most of it himself. That's just the way he is. Content to be the baby of the family, but fiercely independent at times.
His mother opens the box and does the appropriate ooing and ahhing and holds up the gift for every one to see. The little boy's eyes shine as he see's the earrings in his mother's hands. Boy had spent a long time agonizing over his choices at the jewelry wall in the dollar store. He was determined to find something worthy of her beauty. Watching Mother show off the blue plastic hearts he knows he chose well.
"I wanted to get you diamonds" say Boy, "and then I saw the blue ones."
She could have worn them around the house and Boy would have been thrilled. That's the kind of child he was. Innocent and easy to please.
But she didn't wear them around the house. She wore them to church that morning when her husband preached. And proudly showed off her Blue Diamonds when people asked what she received for Mother's Day. That's the kind of Mother she was. Always proud of her children. Always.
Boy is 20 now. And still the same. Innocent, laid back, and always thinking of others.
Mother is the same as well. Proud of her children. Always.
She received 5 other presents that year. No one could tell you what they were.
But the blue diamonds are still in a small box on her dresser.