She told him to open the old egg that he had mocked her for buying!
My husband teased me for buying a small enameled egg at the flea market, but he was unaware of the surprise in store for him.
I have to say up front that I’m addicted to flea markets. The appeal of sorting through the ruins of a hundred lifetimes and finding a lost treasure among the trash is too strong for me to refuse.
When I was eleven years old, I used to spend the summers in New England with my grandmother. We used to spend our weekends combing through every flea market and street festival within a hundred miles of one another, calling her treasures “preloved jewels.”
I can speak from experience as a mother and grandmother when I say that there’s nothing quite like the excitement of sorting through an assortment of strange objects and discovering something that seems like a hidden gem.
It’s utterly beyond the comprehension of my spouse. Sam is a fantastic, generous, and hardworking man, but he simply cannot understand my need to find treasure among the trash.
Our main problem is that, in my husband’s words, I constantly bringing home “preloved jewels,” or hoarded junk. It would probably be easier for me to just give up my little interest, even if I truly don’t want to.
There’s nothing I like better than putting $20 in my pocket on the weekends and go to a flea market to try to score a Van Goh for fifty cents. No matter how often he criticizes me for wasting money and hoarding trash, Sam, I won’t give it up.
Allow me to explain how this miracle came to pass. He hasn’t been whining about it lately; in fact, he wanted to accompany me this weekend.
About a month ago, I spent a Saturday morning at a nearby town attending their street fair. I was giddy with excitement as my instinctive bargain-hunting skills led me to a small exhibit where a man was selling trinkets.
A little porcelain and enamel egg, about the size of an egg, was discovered there between the porcelain cups and bisque shepherdesses. I desired it even though it wasn’t a very special or appealing piece.
What’s the price of the egg? I asked the man a question. His beady eyes were watching me closely. I could feel him examining my purse and practical attire, speculating about my spending limit.
The man said, “Just $25, lady, and let me tell you, it’s a bargain!” I knew how the game was played, so I shook my head and shrieked in fear.
“Twenty-five dollars for a cheap china egg?” I responded, “I’ll give you $5.”
To one man, what is trash may be treasure.
“FIVE DOLLARS!” In response, the male gasped as well. For this sliver of history? For this tiny jewel? Lady, this is French porcelain.
“Exactly!” “So if I turn it over, I won’t see’made in China’ stamped on the bottom?” I asked myself.
Taking advantage of the man’s reluctance, I could tell he wasn’t sure. “I’ll take it for $10, without touching it,” the speaker declared.
The man took my ten dollars, wrapped the egg in some newspaper, and murmured something under his breath. I was overjoyed! The egg seemed to fit something. I spent some time perusing the fair, but I wasn’t very interested in it. I found my prize and headed home.
I arrived with a smile on my face and gave Sam a kiss. He was sitting on the couch, reading his newspaper. “Hey, hun,” he exclaimed. Any trash found?
Hello! Yes, actually. I took the carefully wrapped egg out of my purse and cracked it open.
Sam looked at it sceptically. Is that all there is to it? Is that what you found out?
Indeed, isn’t it lovely? I let out a cry.
“What’s it for?” he asked, turning the egg over in his hands.
“I believe it was a jewelry box,” I answered. “Are the hinges and the small metal latch visible to you?” I took up the egg and tried it.
“I think it’s rusted shut,” Sam retorted, turning the egg over. “See, it makes logic! From Hong Kong, produced! How much did you have to pay for it?
I started to blush and reached for the egg. “Ten dollars, but the man was asking for twenty-five,” I protested.
Sam laughed at me, mockingly. “Once again, you were duped!”
My eyes began to brim up with tears. “Well, it’s nice!” When I shook the small egg, I heard something move inside. “Something is within!”
“Oh, it’s definitely a diamond,” sneered Sam as he took the egg from my grasp. His powerful fingers turned in a cunning way, and he cracked open the egg. Tucked within was a little bundle of red silk.
I took out the tiny gift and carefully unwrapped it. Among the folds of the red cloth gleamed a pair of earrings. They were so lovely! Of course they were phony, but they were, in my opinion, really beautiful copies.
Sam took up one of the earrings and examined it carefully. Sam inhaled on the clear focal stone surrounded by a green gem halo. He looked at the earring and gasped.
“Jen, I think these are real,” he went on.
“What?” I exclaimed. “Explain what you mean.”
This diamond documentary claims that it is a genuine diamond. I noticed a lengthy back that was unclouded by breath. Look at this! I breathed on the big clear stone once more.
I examined it. Not a haze. I looked at Sam after shaking my head. “Hun, have a look at those stones’ size. They would have millions! To put it plainly, they are superb impersonators.
But Sam was ecstatic. “Let’s go get them appraised by that jeweler at the mall.”
I told Sam that he was going to charge us for it.
We drove to the mall and waited tensely for the man to try on the earrings and whisper beneath them, but Sam didn’t seem to bother. “Yes, these are diamonds along with eighteen carats of white gold,” he declared.
These appear to be emeralds. Everything is worn out. These earrings are probably Art Deco based on the craftsmanship and style. There are probably about three hundred stones in question, though the quantity may increase depending on the stones’ quality.
“Three hundred dollars?” Sam asked.
I told Sam that he was going to charge us for it.
We drove to the mall and waited tensely for the man to try on the earrings and whisper beneath them, but Sam didn’t seem to bother. “Yes, these are diamonds along with eighteen carats of white gold,” he declared.
These appear to be emeralds. Everything is worn out. These earrings are probably Art Deco based on the craftsmanship and style. There are probably about three hundred stones in question, though the quantity may increase depending on the stones’ quality.
“Three hundred dollars?” Sam asked.
Sam, on the other hand, has developed a strong passion for antiques and now accompanies me to every antique fair and flea market. There is still hope even though we haven’t found that Van Gogh yet!
What can we learn from this story?
To one man, what is trash may be treasure. Jen was positive she would find a “preloved jewel,” and she was right.
Recognize other people’s interests. Sam teased Jen about her love of flea markets, but she eventually found a $3 million pair of earrings.
Discuss this story with your friends. It can inspire people to provide a hand to others or to tell their own tale.
