Traditions

I have a story I wanted to tell when it happened, but it was a quasi secret, so I had to wait. There is a jeweler here in Central Texas, James Avery, that makes a unique line of Christian-themed, mostly sterling silver jewelry. A staple for them is charms. We moved to Texas in 1976 and my father found them soon after. Before long, every gift for every female for every occasion, became a trip to James Avery for Daddy. He bought me rings, earrings, charms, bracelets, and necklaces. My mother and sister had a similarly overflowing jewelry box. It became a most special tradition to open the little boxes with a candelabra on them. When my mother died in 2003, my sister and I had a memorable time of looking through and dividing her special pieces. Many of them one of us already had. He gave the girls charm bracelets when they were born and added to their charm collection every birthday and Christmas.

My father was killed in September of 2009. My birthday had been in August and I had not seen him since then. My sister's birthday was September 1, just two weeks before he died. When we went to his home that day, there were two little James Avery bags, sitting on his piano, waiting until he saw us again. Sydney, our lifelong special friend who was very close to marrying Dad, knew which was which and gave us our presents. Mine were dragonfly earrings which still make me cry when I wear them.

Fast forward to this Christmas. When I asked my two younger girls what they wanted for Christmas, they both wanted a James Avery purity ring more than anything. It was a little beyond my budget for individual gifts, but when your teen daughter wants to proclaim purity to the world... you have to support that. And the fact that it was a James Avery product made it even more special. I went into the store one afternoon a couple of weeks before Christmas and teared up walking in the door. We picked the rings and the lady helped us get them. As she showed and polished, I told her about my father and his tradition. It was my first James Avery purchase, despite having literally dozens of pieces. She cried, too... and thanked me for telling her my story. I walked out of the store that afternoon, feeling warm and fuzzy, missing my parents, but knowing full well that they would be proud to know what I had done, and even more proud of my girls for making that significant commitment.

I love you and miss you Daddy, but you done good! All your girls love you, and even more important, we love the Lord!