The Gem Thief

   The Gem Thief

                                                     By Valerie L. Egar

A wealthy jeweler, Basil, had a smart daughter, Kyra. The girl loved playing with the gems heaped on her father’s workbench. Basil, ever patient, taught her the names of the stones. As Kyra grew, she began to help her father with the business, waiting on customers and keeping accounts. Basil was proud of her and looked forward to the day when he could add the words, “And Daughter” to the sign that hung above his shop door.

Kyra’s mother died when she was very young and her father had remarried. Though his wife, Ansi, smiled and nodded agreeably when Kyra spoke, she was jealous of the love her husband felt for his daughter. Her heart was dark and unlike her husband, she did not want Kyra to have any part in her father’s business.

One night, while Basil slept, Ansi crept into his workshop. Holding a lantern so she could see, she grabbed a beautiful blue sapphire from the workbench. The stone glittered in the lantern’s light. She slipped into Kyra’s room and hid it in a crack between the floorboards.

“Where is the sapphire I was setting for the Prince?” Basil shouted from his workshop the next morning.

Kyra and Basil looked under the workbench, in every drawer, even in his teacup. Nothing.

Basil didn’t know what to do. The Prince would be furious and Basil could not easily replace the missing stone.

Ansi appeared with a pot of tea. “Husband, why not search the house?” she said sweetly. “Perhaps a mouse carried it off and hid it.”

Basil thought that unlikely, but he was desperate to find the missing gem. The locks on the doors were still in place and no windows were broken, so he did not suspect thieves. Maybe a mouse had carried it off.

They searched under cushions, on top of cabinets, in water jugs. “Oh my,” cried Ansi as she searched Kyra’s room. “Husband, look here!”  Ansi pointed to the space between the floorboards in Kyra’s room.

Basil pulled the sapphire from its hiding place. “What a relief!”

“But husband,” Ansi whispered.  “Why did Kyra take it?” She began to cry loud, false tears. “Maybe she was planning to kill us in our sleep. Perhaps she was going to run away with the grocer’s son. Who knows what she was going to do?”

“I will ask her,” Basil said.

“I did not take the sapphire,” said Kyra. “It must be as Ansi said— we have a mouse.”

Ansi’s eyes narrowed. “But why did the mouse hide it in your room?” she asked. “And why did it steal the Prince’s gem?”

Kyra shrugged. “I do not know how a mouse thinks.”

Basil was steadfast. “I agree it was a mouse. There is no other explanation.”

That night, Ansi slipped into the workshop again and a large star ruby caught her eye. She took the stone and hid it in a drawer in Kyra’s bedroom.

The next day, Basil discovered the star ruby missing. Kyra and Basil searched the workshop without success. Ansi suggested they search the living quarters, and once again, she discovered the gem hidden in Kyra’s room.

“Husband,” she whispered. “Do not say this is the work of a mouse! How does a mouse open a drawer? How does a mouse know to choose the finest gems?”

“Perhaps it is a rat, not a mouse,” said Basil. “Or, a snake. I’ve heard they are very clever and like nice things.”

Once again, he questioned Kyra. “I did not take the ruby,” she said. “Perhaps it was a rat or a snake, as you said, Father.”

Before Kyra left the workshop that evening, she put a large diamond on the workbench. That night, Ansi again

visited the workshop. When she reached for the diamond, her hand brushed the workbench and immediately stuck to it.  “Oh!” she cried and tried to pull her hand away.  Then, her right hand brushed the workbench and stuck. She could not move.

Basil and Kyra found her in the morning. “I thought I heard someone,” she said, and I tried to catch them,” but Basil knew the truth and sent her away forever.

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Copyright 2017 by Valerie L. Egar, may not be copied or reproduced without permission from the author.

Published June 11, 2017 Sunday Journal Tribune (Biddeford, ME)

The Farmer's Dream

                                                     The Farmer’s Dream

                                               By Valerie L. Egar

            A young farmer lived in a cabin at the foot of a mountain with his wife and daughter. His land was rocky and not easily farmed, but he managed to grow enough food to feed his family and their cow. His wife grew vegetables and raised chickens. Their daughter helped by milking the cow and weeding the garden.

            One night as the farmer slept, he dreamt he found emeralds and rubies red as blood deep in the earth on his farm. The gems were beautiful and sparkled in his hands. When he awoke, he told his wife about his dream.  “Perhaps it means the crops will yield well this year and we will have a little extra money,” she said.

            The farmer shook his head. “No. It means there are emeralds and rubies buried somewhere on our farm.” 

            Hi wife thought no more about it until lunchtime when she carried a basket with bread, cheese and cool water to the farmer. Instead of hoeing weeds and watering the barley he’d planted, he was digging a hole in the middle of the field, tossing aside the young plants he’d tended so carefully. A pile of barley plants withered in the hot sun.

            “What are you doing, husband?” she cried.

           “Looking for the gems I saw in my dream.”

            “Couldn’t you wait until after the harvest?”

            “No!” he whispered. “What if thieves discovered them first?”

            Every day, the farmer dug holes in his field, uprooting the wheat and barley he’d planted.

            “Husband,” his wife said, “You’re killing all you planted. We won’t have any food this winter.”

            “You worry too much, “ he replied. “When I find the emeralds and rubies, we’ll be rich and able to buy all the food we want.”

            His wife said nothing, but planted extra turnips and potatoes in her garden to try and make up for the loss of the grain.

            By the middle of summer, holes and piles of dirt covered the fields where barley and wheat once grew. The farmer eyed his wife’s garden. “That’s where the emeralds and rubies must be!” he declared and started to dig, uprooting the vegetables his wife was growing for them to eat.

            “Have faith,” he said to his wife. “I know there are emeralds and rubies somewhere and I am working hard every day to find them.”

The farmer’s wife had never seen her husband work harder, but when she saw all the plants she grew dying in the sun, the only thing she could imagine was a winter with nothing to eat. “I wish you luck, husband,” she said and left to live with her parents, taking their daughter with her.

 The farmer searched for the emeralds and rubies for the rest of the season, without finding them.  He barely made it through the winter, but in the spring, he resumed digging. Instead of calling himself a farmer, he said he was a miner, digging for precious gems. People in the village called him odd and some laughed behind his back. Still, he persisted.

Years passed. He scraped by, year in and year out, growing thin, his hair greying. “In my dream,” he told those who would listen, “I saw emeralds and rubies. I held them in my hands.”

            One evening in June, as the evening light lingered, the farmer dug the deepest hole ever. Something glimmered in the setting sun. It was the size of a hen’s egg and glowed green. He picked it up— an emerald, large and perfect. He dug faster and deeper and soon, he had a bucket of the largest and most beautiful emeralds and rubies ever seen.

            He sold the gems and became very wealthy. Newspapers all over the world reported his extraordinary find. Many people commended him for following his dream, and believing in himself. Others were critical. “He gave up his family, friends, and good health to have what?” they said. People spent hours debating the issue. Everybody had an opinion, but what does that matter? The only thing that’s important is what you think about it.

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Copyright 2017 by Valerie L. Egar. May not be copied or reproduced without permission from the author. 

Published June 4, 2017, Journal Tribune Sunday (Biddeford, ME).