Peace Necklace

So, as I've written about before, my living situation is wonderful, but a little odd. I live up a rather rural road, but very close to the school at which I teach. I see rabbits, squirrels, and birds every day. I hear the Coyotes howling almost every night.

Just the other day I actually stopped my car because I saw a white hawk doing that hover-thing they do, and then I saw him swoop down and grab something. I've seen him once since.

(Please don't tell me what I saw wasn't a hawk. I'm not sure it was a hawk, I think it was a hawk, I see the red-tailed hawks all the time... so I sortof know what a hawk looks like... but I could be wrong. In any case, it sounds more impressive to say "white hawk.")

It's quiet and tranquil and lovely. And quirky. I've written before about Freaky Fred next door. He's still freaky, but I avoid him rather successfully.

My landlady has been gone for almost six weeks. She travels all over the world. When she's gone I collect the mail and take care of her lucky bamboo. My apartment, and Freaky Fred's studio are what used to be a grandmother's or guest cottage on the property. The landlady lives in the "big house." Attached to that are two more apartments; an upstairs and a downstairs. Laura has lived in the downstairs apartment for 12 years, even though she gets flooded out several times each winter. She's about 10 years older than me and always calls me "Honey" and "Sweetie." She stays over at her boyfriend's a lot, so I don't see her all that much anymore.

The upstairs apartment has had the most turnaround since I've been here (Three years as of September 5th). First there was Unka. I don't know if she was from Germany, but she had a very strong accent, and never seemed too happy. She put an old pair of shoes in the recycling bin one time, not quite getting the Metal/plastic/paper idea.

Then there was Jinny. She was a 52-year-old former beach baby who still acted like she was 21. Which is fine. Except when she and her boyfriend would have late, loud nights with the stereo blaring, and when her dog would run free in the orchard, or when the boyfriend used grocery bags to pick all the fruit from the mini-orchard. My landlady was not pleased about the last thing.

Next came Simon. A young and cute professor from England, he was here writing a book about American History. I had a big crush on him, but alas, I knew he was only going to be here for a year. Then he fell madly in love, with an American girl, who followed him back to London. Drats.

Which brings us to the latest tenant. John is single, in his early 60's but looks ten years younger. He's always pleasant to talk to, and every once in a while, asks me to come up for a glass of wine. I've always had something going on, but last night, as I was getting my laundry, I said "sure."

When I came up, on his patio table, was the little necklace you see in the picture.

He said it was for me, and fastened it around my neck. Now, this would usually be a little weird to me, but it wasn't awkward at all. He told me there was a story behind it.

"When I moved in you see, I had to move everything quickly from my freezer at my old place to my freezer at this place. I had at least three bags of coffee beans that I remember putting in the new fridge. Well, for the first few months, I didn't even think about them. You know, I didn't want to pull out the coffee grinder, and wasn't quite sure where I put the thing in the first place.

Then, just three or so months ago, I thought I should use that coffee up, if it's not gone bad already. So I pulled out one of the bags of beans, and opened it up... and it was full of these necklaces!"

I looked at him,

"But, where did they come from?"

" I have no idea Rebekah. Can you believe that? They weren't mine, that's for sure. I've only had one guest here since I moved here, and I actually called her up to see if somehow she left them here. She didn't know what I was talking about."

"Gosh, there's a story in there. Something magical."

And he agreed. He's quite the political peace-nik. He told me when he saw the necklaces, he thought it would be the way to spread peace. You know, one person at a time. He told me that he was down at a coffee shop in town, and a girl admired the necklace and he told her the story and gave it to her.

And he told me the story, and gave one to me.

I don't know if it's that easy, but I do know the necklace is special. How could it not be?

Made me think. What if I'd said no to the glass of wine last night? Like I've done every other time?

We all have stories. We need to tell them, that's for sure. But we also have to take the time to hear them from others.