One of these earrings comes from a pair that my great-grandmother owned, the only jewelry she ever had. The second earring was made to match the first, when the original was lost somewhere in between her and me. I can't tell you which is which, and my grandfather who gave them to me couldn't either. My great-grandmother brought one of these earrings over from Italy with her, when she and her husband emigrated. The earring went through through Ellis Island sometime around 1920. Even my grandfather did not make this journey, as he was the first to be born in America. Once my great-grandmother passed away, her earrings were given to her sister, my grandfather's aunt and then to my grandfather. Somewhere along the way one went missing. My grandfather held onto it among other odd trinkets that he always seem to have laying around, serving no real purpose. My grandfather was the kind of man to keep a single earring, or a broken watch, or an old pin. If I came across the earring while looking through the items that scattered his house, I would have not thought anything of it then. My grandfather decided, not without controversy, that for Christmas one year he would give me his mother's earring. He didn't give it to one of his own daughters or the oldest grandaughter. He chose me, the youngest girl. So he searched out a special jeweler to replicate the one to make a pair. And the two together were dazzling. I cherish them. The old of my great-grandmother. And the new, me.

– Acadia Branch

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