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Adopt A Diamond™
The Gift — A Sweet Story of Success by
Fred Cuellar, The Diamond Guy®
One day a few years ago, I boarded a jetliner
in Houston, bound for New York. When I had stowed my carry-on bag
and buckled myself in, I looked over to see who I had for a seat
mate. I saw a small, elderly lady, sitting straight and prim in
her seat, clutching her handbag and trying very hard not to appear
concerned. I guessed this lady had not flown often in her life.
I leaned over and reminded her gently that she would have to stow
her handbag before taking off.
“Oh, thank you,” she said. “I’m
a little nervous, to be quite frank. I’ve never flown before.”
I asked her why she was traveling to New York.
“Well,” she said with a sigh, “I'm going to live
with my daughter. She's meeting me at the airport. You see, my husband
of fifty-five years passed away recently and my daughter doesn't
want me living alone.”
I offered condolences and, trying to brighten
her up, I said she was lucky to have enjoyed such a long marriage.
“Thank you. Yes, I was fortunate. We had a good marriage, and
now it seems like the time went by so fast...seems like just yesterday
we were saying our vows.” She was quiet for a long moment,
replaying some of the cherished moments of her married life, before
she returned to our conversation. “And what about you?”
she asked. “Why are you going to New York?”
I told her I was in the diamond business and was
going there to close a deal on some diamonds. “Oooh, diamonds!”
Her lined face brightened. Charlie — that was my husband —
always said I’d have a diamond one day. When we got married,
all we could afford were the wedding bands. Then came the children,
and with one thing or another we never have enough money for luxuries.
Every anniversary Charlie would say, ‘My dear, next year well
get you that diamond!’ But now there is no next year.”
She bowed her head and tried not to let me see
the tears, but eventually she had to dab them away with a handkerchief
tugged from the pocket of her old coat. In that moment, this sweet
woman's tears revealed to me why I was on that plane, sitting beside
her. I asked her name. “Evelyn,” she told me. “Evelyn
Benson.”
“Well Evelyn,” I said, “my name
is Fred Cuellar, and I just realized that fate brought us together.
What is your ring size?”
“I--I don’t know, really,” she
stammered. “Why?”
“Because I am here to give you your diamond
ring. Charlie had something to do with seating us together, I’m
sure of it.” I guess her ring size at about a six, and I had
a grin sized extra large at this point.
“But I can’t afford it,” she protested.
“We never could.”
“Evelyn,” I told her, “I am not
selling you a diamond ring. I am giving it to you, at Charlie’s
request.”
Well that made her cry even more, but the tears
were happier now, and she gave me a big hug when we parted company
at JFK airport. When I got back to Houston I put together a modest,
but very nice, diamond engagement ring and mailed it to Evelyn at
the address in upstate New York she’d given me. Putting that
package in the mail made me feel like a million dollars. No, better
than that.
Six months later I received a small package at
my Houston office. When I opened it, I found the diamond ring I’d
sent to Evelyn Benson. With the ring was a note from her daughter:
“Dear Mr. Cuellar, I’m returning
the ring which you so generously allowed my mother to wear for the
last six months. Not a day went by when she didn’t show it
to someone, proud as can be. She told people it was a gift from
her late husband Charlie (my dad). I’d never seen her as happy
with anything in my life. My mother passed away last week, so I
am returning your ring with many thanks for the joy you brought
my mother.
Sincerely, Jane Adams.”
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