The next to last ring I wear has a turquoise stone. Or maybe it’s larimar (I looked it up on the Internet because I couldn’t remember). Whatever the stone is, it came from the Dominican Republic.
Here’s a pictures of it (sorry about the band aids, bike rental stuff was giving me a rough time that day):
Also, I don’t know why I never put up a picture of the other rings. Maybe in my next post about the last ring, I’ll put up a picture of all of the rings I wear to make up for it.
The stone is pretty well-known, or precious, in the Dominican Republic, so said the woman who sold it to me. More than half of the jewelry in that small gift shop in the Dominican had the same stone that is on the ring I wear on my left middle finger.
And no, I don’t flip that bird so you can see how pretty the ring is haha!
My high school senior class went to the Dominican Republic for our senior class trip, and I know this is a cliche, but it was one of the most amazing times of my life. It brought my tiny class of eight together, even though only six of us went. When the six of us came back, we were able to share our experiences with the others, and bring the closeness we’d shared with each other to the other two. At least, that’s what I felt.
Now every time I look at this ring, I’m reminded of several things…
I’m reminded of our time in the Dominican Republic. How we stayed in the beautiful Score hotel. How we made friends with people from the other school that stayed there by playing “Keep Away” in the pool, and spending time with each other on Catalina Island. How I refused to jump off a boat or a cliff into the crystal blue water, but still had the time of my life watching as my fearless friends did it.
But I also remember being extremely impacted by the children in the villages and orphanages we played with. How we played basketball with them, or climbed playground sets. How we let them braid our hair, and take pictures with our cameras. How we were all covered in stickers from head-to-toe, and were completely content with just being with each other for a few hours. Nothing else in the world matter in those moments. Simplicity.
And those things brought my senior class together. Being that close to all of your classmates was something I was sort of used to since I’d always attended small, private Christian schools. Being a part of that small, high school senior class reminded me of my five-person third grade class at Light of the World in Atlanta. There were two boys and three girls. And we were all best friends.
I still think of them from time-to-time. All of them – my third grade classmates, and my senior-year classmates, and the times we had with each other. I keep in contact with a few out of them all. It’s amazing to see how far we’ve all come since being a kid or being a teenager.
And it’s cool for me to think that, even though both of those classes I was a part of were super small, we still made a huge impact in the lives of each other, and who knows, maybe in the lives of other people, just like those kids in the Dominican influenced our senior class. Even though I don’t keep in touch with everyone, I can’t help but get this feeling in my bones that the times we shared with one another still stick with us, and influence us in some way or another.
They say there’s strength in numbers, and that may be true in most cases. But those tiny classes I was a part of were made from some of the strongest, most influential people in my life.
We were tiny, but mighty in the most important ways.