Before we were engaged I told John I didn't want a big ring that would get in the way of making bread and changing diapers. He was nervous about choosing one, and when he proposed he gave me a ring with a small ruby. He held his breath for my reaction. I loved it of course,
and wore it gratefully.
When the ruby fell out six children later I couldn't justify spending the money to replace it, so it sat in my bathroom for fifteen years. Empty. Then one day I felt rebellious about how marriage has been demoted in our culture, and I decided to
celebrate my own. I went back to the jeweler who made the ring and had the stone replaced. It felt like a chunk of change but I am glad I did it. That was two years ago.
There is a
video about a woman named Ali who got caught up in fancy things. When she was engaged Ali made it known that she wanted a ring that would turn heads. Her husband was eager to make her happy and gave Ali a diamond that cost a hundred times what I paid for the ruby.
She had an obsession with possessions and jewelry and furniture, and one day realized that her ring could make a difference in people's lives. Gradually shifting her priorities away from stuff toward altruism, she sold the ring to pay for a well in Africa. Instead of a
glittering rock on her finger, the money went to bring an abundant supply of clean water to an entire village.
The video shows her learning to carry a bucket on her head with a group of African women, and her face expresses more joy than was apparent when she had the diamond on
her finger.
How about that.
