Claddagh's Ring: A Short Story

8,209km is how far away my parents were born from each other: that’s an 11-hour plane ride. Ending up in the same location at the same times seems almost impossible right? Wrong. My mother from Ireland my father from Mexico. It may seem odd both heritages coming together, but I’ve gotten some pretty unique gifts from both sides. What does it mean to be Irish? Does it mean carrying around a pot of gold? Or, having a long, red beard? Even though I do have the freckles, most likely you are not going to guess that I am 50 percent Irish just by looking at me. But, when you look down at my hand, you will see a tiny, gold ring. This ring is the traditional Irish ring called the Claddagh 's. It has a distinctive design featuring two hands clasping a heart, which are surmounted by a crown. The ring does have a traditional meaning but to me these symbols mean so much.

I recognize my big heart feed with their love, warmth, support, and care. It reminds me that I was taught to act as if there were a crown on my head. To be the strong graceful woman I know I am every single day. My Irish blood isn’t my only genetic makeup however. I could ask the same question again, what does it mean to be Mexican. You’d all think of the sombreros and enchiladas. I think of my other half, my Hispanic half. This piece of jewelry was passed down generation to generation. In Mexico they are said to be charms and remedies against enhancement. There a silver sparkle in the sun and a cold gold in the dark. Look at my ears and they cant be missed. Back then not anyone could wear these. They were associated with the riches and royals. When I wear them I’m honored to have such a token from