My Mother's Necklace

The longer I am here, the more I am finding grand meanings in small things. Small gestures, small objects; Everything is symbolic of something and has more depth than meets the eye. Maybe this is the Xhosa culture sinking into me where lots of things are unspoken and silence can mean more than words. Or maybe it's a manifestation of my missing home. Maybe both.

Before I left home, my church family at St. Dunstan's gave me a really warm send-off and I was presented with a necklace from my mom that the priest had blessed. This necklace is one that I have seen my mother wear for years. She has had it for as long as I can remember. Now it has been handed over to me and is halfway around the world. This necklace is a small object that is ever-evolving into new meanings for me.

I wear my mother's necklace and I feel her with me. I feel her history, my history, St. Dunstan's history, my family's history, my childhood, my becoming an adult. This necklace is not a piece of jewelry. It's an inheritance, an heirloom. This necklace is strength. It is the strenth of my mother. It is the strength of my family, my roots, and all we've been through together. It is the strength of my church community and all that they have meant to me, done for me, taught me, and how I have grown in that place. It is a sign of my faith and my belief that there is something that binds us togther, my belief that peace and understanding can prevail. This necklace is my talisman. It reminds me of who I am, where I come from, what I believe. And it guides to tomorrow.

This is not a necklace.