The Ring

April 20, 2011
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It's a circle. A sterling silver circle worth very little in value or beauty. The scratched, worn metal speaks of constant wear and touch. The pale skin underneath speaks of a bond stronger than the band above. And the simple phrase, “True Love Waits”, engraved upon the dull surface speaks of a promise.
The ring caressing my left ring finger is not a piece of jewelry memorable to my past or a testimony of principle parenting. It is a piece of who I am, forged with a sliver of my soul. It is a symbol of my choice to be different, decided on my own values and no one else. It is a testimony of my promise to self and to God, reverent instead of religious.
One day I'll surrender this band of metal for another and strip my left finger of its constant friend. I'll place it on a chain around my neck, twisting the band around the links of metal instead of the flesh of my finger. It will be a reminder of who I am, what I believe, and what I choose to do. It will forever be encircling my heart.

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