“We don’t have money,” the woman with elegantly combed hair said and handed me a silver brooch, “sell this and send money to the army.”
The dancing silver flower with rubies and a tiny malachite looked antique and costly. “It’s beautiful,” I couldn’t help gasping.
The woman smiled and nodded. “My husband gave it to me on our silver wedding anniversary.” They exchanged proud gazes, and the man stroke her white, fragile fingers in the corner of his elbow.
“Wow. It must be so precious to you…” I felt its sudden weight on my palm.
“So is our daughter at the front line,” said the old man. Still smiling, they turned to walk away.