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This is a celebration of vintage charms and charm bracelets.
It is my considered opinion that charms are proof positive that it’s never too late to have a happy childhood. Every great memory is enshrined there- ready to be told to children, grand children, or to oneself on a rainy day.

Granted, my parents (shockingly) didn’t always give in to my blandishments for charms on our family trips, and as I grew older my attention wandered, and I ceased to collect charms as life’s milestones piled up. But now, as I take a chance to breathe before the next onslaught of existence, I also take a chance to collect mementos from the times I wish to remember, and to file them on my bracelets as small tokens of achievement. The graduations I never bothered to attend, the places and events that seemed so unimportant at the time, yet which now glow in time’s reflected light – are surprisingly missed. I celebrate them in my charms, and for a brief moment re-live the feelings – bittersweet and tart as pomegranate on the tongue, gone in a flash, but part of me always.

For the record, I also add tokens of those times I DON’T want to remember- but should because they, too, are a part of who I am and how I came to be where I am now (Not perhaps a world leader, or hero, but still, a sentient woman living in wondrous times). I guess what I have become is old enough to appreciate that we all, every one of us, has a history, and a story, that is worth telling and enjoying, even if only to ourselves. So I love my tiny metallic scrapbooks, and I enjoy every one I see, and appreciate the person whose life it celebrates.

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