When my husband and I first became engaged, we went to a couple jewelry stores and eyeballed a few diamonds. I was looking at chips. He was looking at rocks.

“It’s just a symbol of our love,” I told him. “The love we share is the real gold. This diamond is just the paper currency, a tangible representation of something too wonderful for words.”

“This is the ring my wife will wear for the rest of her life,” he replied. “I want you to remember how important you are to me. Think of it as an ‘eight-cow diamond.’”

A few days later, we stood in the parking lot of the jewelry store, admiring the sparkly diamond prominently displayed on my left hand. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.

“I checked the price of cattle futures this morning,” he told me. “And this ring is a little cheaper than eight head of cattle. I got off light.”

I smiled inside and out. And I still smile when I recall that happy memory. Yes, the ring is nothing more than a symbol. Yet three years later, I’m still surprised by how many times each day, I gaze at my ring finger and silently admire the diamond and all the beautiful and good things that it represents.

“I’m an eight-cow wife,” I tell myself over and over again, still waiting for the import of that precious message to sink in and establish a permanent home in the marrow of my soul. It does feel mighty good to see your own value through someone else’s eyes.

Want to read more? Learn more about Rose’s new book here!

Original story by Patricia McGerr here.

The Eight-Cow Wife

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