My Great Grandmother owned an apartment building in Chicago during the depression. This was a time when people were too proud to take charity. There wasn’t a sense of entitlement like there is today. A time came when the tenants had trouble affording rent, though they wanted to pay their landlord something. My Great Grandmother accepted all sorts of items in lieu of cash for rent. The stolen ring was one of those items. Jewelry wasn’t terribly valuable during the depression when all you wanted was to heat your house, pay your rent and eat a meal. It is sad to see a piece of family history disappear like that, however the good part is that there were two more rings to choose from. I hadn’t seen them in several years and was delighted to find one I actually like better than the one that was stolen. Never in my life has jewelry been comforting to me. I think I may have officially entered womanhood.