The Ring of Dreams

In my family, there is a large, heavy gold ring with a deep red stone. It always catches people’s attention when my mother wears it. It is bold and impossible to overlook. But its real value is not in how it looks. For us, it carries a story of love, sacrifice, and dreams that survived even the hardest times. It carries the story of two women — a mother and a daughter — and the dreams they shared.

The ring belonged to my great-grandmother Maria, whose life was shaped by the dramatic events of the twentieth century. I have grown up hearing her story from my mother, and it makes me feel connected to the past.

My great-grandmother was born shortly after the First World War. She was only eighteen when the Second World War began. She grew up in a poor farming family. She had one sister and four brothers, two of whom were her half-brothers. Her father, Felix, had been married before, but his first wife died during childbirth, leaving him alone with two small sons.

My great-great-grandmother Magdalena was not yet eighteen when she met Felix, a much older widower. Despite the difficulties, they built a strong and loving family. Together they had four more children, including my great-grandmother Maria, after whom I am named. My mother, in turn, carries the name of Magdalena. In this way, our family history lives on not only in stories, but also in our names.

The times they lived in were very hard. During the war and in the years after, there was poverty and a lack of almost everything. My great-grandmother used to say that they had no electricity and used oil lamps. When it got dark, they often went to sleep early because oil was expensive. They lived on what they could grow themselves. Meat was a luxury, usually eaten only on Sundays. During the week, only the father received a small portion, as he needed strength for physical work. But Felix always shared his piece with his children.

Despite everything, people were closer to each other. They helped one another, spent time together, sang, and danced. My mother often repeats that those were times when people were truly human.

Both Magdalena and Maria dreamed of having a beautiful ring, like the ones worn by wealthier women. But in a world marked by war and poverty, such dreams seemed impossible.

After the war, my great-grandmother married my great-grandfather Piotr, a house painter. They had three children, including my grandfather Roman. Life in communist Poland was still difficult, and many things were unavailable, but people still found joy in simple moments.

On the twenty-fifth anniversary of their marriage, my great-grandmother received a special gift —
the ring. A large gold ring with a deep red stone, the kind she had always dreamed of.
 
My mother told me that when my great-grandmother received the ring, she immediately thought of her own mother, Magdalena. She felt that not only her own dream had come true, but also the dream of her beloved mother.

For her, the ring was not just jewellery. It became a symbol of love, gratitude, and the strength to keep dreaming.

My great-grandmother lived a long life and passed away in 2019 at the age of ninety-seven. The ring remained as a memory of her life and her dreams.

Years earlier, on my mother’s eighteenth birthday, she had given the ring to her, asking her to pass it on so that it would always stay in the family. Today, my mother never takes it off. For her, it is more than an object — it is a connection to the past.

In our family, we sometimes say that the ring has a kind of magic. My uncle jokingly calls it the ring of
Arabella. Maybe the magic is not in the ring itself, but in the stories and love it carries.

I do not know who will receive the ring in the future. I have two sisters, so it is impossible to say. What matters most is that it will remain in our family as a symbol of hope.

Because this ring reminds me that dreams do not disappear. Even if they are delayed by war, poverty, or time, they can still come true.

Through this ring, I understand that history lives not only in books, but in the lives, dreams, and memories we carry within us.