Lucky charm

I wear my heart on a gold chain.

The delicate charm is always with me.

In 1997, I was invited to a private estate sale. There was the usual household inventory: furniture, linens, dishes and kitchen items.

In the living room there was a long table covered with small things. At one corner pieces of costume jewelry, most missing a bead or stone, were displayed. Everything was marked less than a dollar.

I picked up a small, brassy, bracelet for a closer look. It was tarnished, but there was something about it that looked elegant and, well, genuine. The bracelet was a series of large links. Across one of the links, obviously added later, was a tiny stone. The bracelet was fastened by a miniature lock.

When I held it in the palm of my hand it felt light. And it made a distinctive “pink” sound.

“You know, I think this is gold,” I told the woman holding the sale.

“Oh, I’m sure it isn’t anything,” she said. “It’s just a child’s toy.”

I wasn’t so sure.

I continued to hold the bracelet as I walked around looking at other pieces. I selected a few things and chatted with others who were there.

When it was time to go, I paid the woman for my purchases and again presented the bracelet to her.

“I really don’t think this is costume jewelry,” I said. “I think this is a good piece.”

Again, she assured me that the bracelet wasn’t anything at all. Just a piece of junk jewelry that had seen better days.

So, I paid her the 50 cents she was asking and went on my way.

As soon as I got home I went to work. I cleaned it with soap and water and took a closer look. Then, just to be sure, I took it to a jeweler.

I’d been right.

The bracelet was gold and the tiny stone spanning one of the links was a diamond. The jeweler thought that perhaps the intention had been to add a stone to the other links, perhaps to mark an anniversary or birthday

The gold charm was delicate and exquisite. On the back was an elaborately scrolled monogram. On the thin edge of the charm was the date: 1897. It was exactly 100 years old.

When it was purchased, the little lock probably came with a tiny key that fit into the lock and opened it. I’ve seen them at antique shows but never purchased one.

I was afraid the bracelet would be too fragile to stand much wear so I had the lock removed and placed it on a gold chain. And now I wear it every day.

When I’m worrying over something, or thinking about what I want to write or say, I always find myself reaching for my heart.

It’s my good luck charm.