Wednesday, March 26, 2008


When I was little, I used to search for "lucky stones" with my grandpa in the woods. Looking back at these special moments, I smile on some of my most cherished childhood memories.

Walking along the trail next to the creek, we'd find pocketfuls of raw quartz, tucked under fallen tree branches or buried beneath the ponderosa needles. They were usually a cloudy, brownish-grey on the outside and had very stubborn dirt caked into the grooves. I always tried to brush the dirt off with the sleeve of my jacket or a little bit of spit, but Bompa would gently tell me to wait. No matter how many times we had done it before, I needed reminding that if I could just wait until we brought the stones back to his workshop, I'd be able to see their true beauty.

When we would arrive back at the house, we'd gently wash the grimy little stones in the kitchen sink, and then the excitement would build as we took them out into his shop. I'd wait with anticipation as he got out his tools and began to break those little plain-looking stones in half.

One by one, they'd fall open to reveal the most delicately glimmering pink insides. They would catch and reflect even the softest light in their shiny new surface that looked like pink lace, and I can still remember being able to admire them for what seemed like hours. These pieces of rose quartz became my treasures, and I filled many jewelry boxes and coin purses with my collection. They were valuable to me because my grandpa had treated them like magical gifts fit only for a princess, but they were also special because I felt as though I had been a part of helping them reach their true and glowing potential.

I picked the name "Lucky Stone" for my blog and my Etsy Store as a reminder that proverbially searching for lucky stones should be a part of our everyday lives. Whether it is a person, a home, or a vintage piece of furniture - believing that something old and tired can be seen as beautiful again is a quality that will truly make our lives brighter.

My grandpa is nolonger on this earth, but he is very much alive in my heart. He taught me to see things through a hopeful eye, and to always consider that the mystery of beauty is often lying just beneath the surface - in the end, all it took to make those little stones shine was a little bit of love.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

My sweet little Jessie,
What an amazing young woman you are. I can only think back on your Mom and what a wonderful friend she is and has been to me to realize the apple does not fall far from the tree.
I loved your blog. It is my virgin experience to a blog! I can always keep on learning.