Quartz' Memories: “What are you doing? Journaling again? I swear, you write down everything,” the girl’s father said. “I do it so I can have a reference to my feelings or frustration or anger so I can work to understand them,” the girl retorted. “Then, I can better adjust my reactions for a positive outcome.” “That is very clever, good idea! You want to see what I use?” The man went to the living room and pulled apart a bookend. The girl looked through her doorway in awe, as she believed that stone was a part of the holder. He brought back the crystal ball to her in both hands, open like an offering. “Your Mother valued this stone to the point of me becoming jealous. Ha, she hugged it more than me some days. It is one of the only things I could never part with after she left us.”
“Why did she have it Dad? I mean, was she into fortune telling?” his daughter asked. “She told me once and I’ll try to remember. She said this crystal was a used in five forms, a sort of catch all for channeling, healing, meditating, manifesting, and protection. This ball she held faith in, for its ability to amplify any thoughts or purify any energies. You see, your mother was a kind woman who only wanted to show others that good people in the world existed. Ones who would help in critical moments of need or at random, and not expect anything in return except a smile. She did things just to prove to others that even when you are tired, anxious, or at your worst, the universe will send help when you truly need it. She would say that this could take unhappiness and release it back into the universe as hope.”
“It’s just a stone Dad. How could she believe all of that?” the girl asked incredulously. “I don’t rightly know," the man spoke in a low tone and then excitedly said, “Why don’t you give it a try though while you write and see how it works?” With a wink, he tossed it to her and as it bounced on the bed and rolled next to her journal. “We’ll see!” she yelled.
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