.jpg)
In a world full of commotion and surging minutes, finding a diamond feels like faltering upon a mystery kept as it were for you. A pearl can be anything—a person, a memory, a dream tucked securely within the corner of your intellect. Some of the time we hunt for jewels in swarmed places, burrowing through layers of conventional, trusting for a sparkle. Other times, gems discover us when we aren't indeed looking:
a stranger's benevolence, a tune playing at fair the proper minute, a bit of exhortation from somebody you nearly disregarded.
I think of jewels as treasures that do not continuously sparkle. They might not see extraordinary at to begin with. They might come wrapped in inconvenience, or torment, or botches. But covered up interior them is esteem, the kind you do not disregard. Like an ancient companion who appears up when the world seems to turn its back, or a childhood memory that warms you on the loneliest evenings. Genuine pearls are not simple to recognize in case you're as it were chasing what sparkles.
Within the soil, pearls are buried profound, smashed beneath weight for a long time some time recently they see the light. Possibly that's how it works with individuals as well. Possibly we are molded by the weight of things we survived, cleaned by the contact of difficult days, and made excellent in ways we can't indeed see yet. When we call somebody a pearl, we cruel more than beautiful—we cruel uncommon, solid, immaculate in a world that regularly overlooks what virtue is.
I ponder how numerous pearls I walk past each day without knowing. Perhaps the calm boy at the back of the course may be a pearl. Perhaps the wrinkled lady who offers natural product at the corner slow down carries stories more brilliant than precious stones. Possibly the greatest jewel of all is interior us—waiting, quiet, adamant, sparkling indeed when no one else takes note.
Not all Gem are found. A few must be accepted in.