Mormon studies, personal essay
The first time it happened, I was seven. My grandma had mailed me a tiny ring for my birthday, an aquamarine set in silver. I clapped my hands and couldn’t stop jumping when I saw it. It was the first piece of jewelry I had ever owned; like wearing a piece of the sky. I took it everywhere—presenting my hand to the world, palm down, as if I were queen. It was the most beautiful ring in the history of rings.
BYU Studies Quarterly: Vol. 56:
4, Article 9.
Available at: https://scholarsarchive.byu.edu/byusq/vol56/iss4/9