“Why did they bring me here? Why? I felt so much better at home. I was lying in my tiny warm box feeling safe and protected. And oh, so happy was I when little Sophie took me out secretly and played with me with her sugary hands. I so much adored her tiny soft girly fingers. And how cared and loved I felt during the cotton bath that always followed Sophie’s playing. And here? I do not care an ounce about these admiring glances, I do not need the owner’s praises concerning my look and my value, which he always calls ITS PRICE. I don’t care about it! I feel so priceless here. Sitting here all day, surrounded by all kinds of jewelry just drives me mad! Of course, I admire the Welsh medallion, the Dutch lustrous earrings and the Australian pearl necklace. But they will never make me home, they will never replace Sophie’s loving smile and subtle hands. I want back home, I want Sophie’s rotund hands”– thought the aged ring, looking out of the vintage jewelry store’s window.