My grandma was a free spirit with a bright laugh, loving bold clothes and flashy jewelry that others didn’t always get. When she passed, she left me a chunky, plastic-looking necklace I dismissed as just another playful accessory from her adventures. I stashed it in a drawer for years.
One day, I gave it to my young daughter as a dress-up toy. She loved it and wore it for her pretend performances. Yesterday, she burst in excitedly: “Mom, look!” She pointed to a hidden latch. Inside: a folded paper and a small locket.
My hands trembled with warmth as I opened the locket—a tiny photo of Grandma holding baby me. The note read: “True beauty is rarely seen at first glance. Keep looking.” Tears came, not from sadness, but from her ongoing lesson. I’d judged the necklace by its surface, missing its depth.
Now, it’s no trinket but a reminder: love and meaning hide in the ordinary. I keep it in a special box for its wisdom, not shine. My daughter asks to see it, and I say, “Grandma made life magical.” Some treasures are found with the heart, not eyes.
