Rubies. I remember the rubies, red and shiny. I see them now as if it long ago, when I was a child in Buenos Aires. He would buy me 18 carat gold jewelry with rubies. They were his favorite stone. They quickly became my favorite stone. Rubies represented the love my father felt for me. They showed he cared, that he wanted me to have nice things.
The color red meant Communism to him, a way of life that he didn’t agree with. But the rubies spoke of a better life, of a life with something else besides harshness. He had known enough harshness in the labor camps of the 30s and during World War 2.