Beth Shapiro stood in the jewelry store imagining she was standing inside the middle of a crystal prism. The whole world was glimmering with rainbow, incandescent reflections. She stood with her seven-year-old nose pressed against the clear glass display case. She had never seen such jewels before! The world of opal, amethyst, diamond, pearl and coral stood before her. She looked down at the bubble-gum-prize ring on her finger and knew it would never again seem quite so precious.

Beth had gone shopping with her elderly aunt, who was a widow with no children of her own. It was their way of spending the afternoon together. Although Aunt Tzippi had heart trouble and had to carry nitroglycerin pills in her bag, she had never lost a certain youthful vivaciousness.

Out of the blue, every now and then she would tell Beth, "Today is a fun day. Let's go out for ice cream!" And despite protests and warnings about cholesterol from her worried sister, Beth's mother, Aunt Tzippi would take her by the hand and they were off into a world of their own. They went to a place where cardiologists were not allowed to enter and where the heart of a little girl was made to feel special.

That day, after the chocolate ice cream, Aunt Tzippi had announced, "I need to have my gold earrings fixed. Let's go across town to the jeweler." She took Beth on a bus for the very first time and they got off under [New York City's] Lexington Avenue uptown railroad tracks to go to the jewelry store.

As the jeweler explained what needed to be done to her earrings, Beth heard Aunt Tzippi ask, "Do you have anything especially for children?" He brought out a tray of rings.

Beth felt a warm hand on her shoulder breaking her trance-like stare at the jewelry case. "Look, darling, do you see something you like? Aunt wants to buy you a present."

Beth looked up at her in wide-eyed disbelief. "Mama won't let me, Aunt Tzippi," she whispered.

"It's a present, darling, it's okay."

Beth's hand was cold as she picked out a tiny amethyst heart centered on a gold ring. It fit her ring finger perfectly. Aunt Tzippi gave her a kiss and said, "A special girl like you deserves to have a special present from her aunt."

Beth was very happy and felt very grown up. She put her bubble-gum ring in her pocket and thought of her three-year-old cousin Mashie who would want it.

When they arrived home, the ring was met with cries of "Oh, Tzippi, how could you get her something so expensive!" But Aunt Tzippi, with her typical fun-loving, spunky side, replied, "It gives me more pleasure to spend it on her now than after I'm dead! Besides, when I'm dead you'll use the money for practical things and she'll never have anything pretty.”

That night it was Beth's turn to clean out their parakeet's cage. She put newspapers on the floor, and of course took off her precious new ring because she didn't want to get it dirty. After she finished with the cage, she quickly rolled up the newspapers and took them to the incinerator chute.

When she went back inside the apartment, she looked all over for the ring. She couldn't find it anywhere. She felt a cold emptiness in her heart and her stomach knotted up. Her ring, her beautiful new ring was lost forever in the incinerator chute!

One glance at the stern look on her mother's face and she burst out crying and ran to the bedroom she shared with her two older sisters.

Within two minutes Beth's sister Mindy came and quietly sat down next to her on her bed where she lay sobbing, her face buried in the pillow.

"Beth," she began gently, "one day, God willing, I will buy you another ring. I can't do it now, but when I get older and have more money, I will buy you a beautiful ring, as pretty as the one from Aunt Tzippi. But right now I want you to try to understand something: In our house, we don't cry about things. Thank God, we have a wonderful family and there are so many people who love you. And we have Torah.

"Look, honey," she said, reaching for a Book of Psalms, "you are learning to read so well. What does this say?"

Beth had planned to stay buried in her pillow because she was too embarrassed to show her red, puffy face. But her sister's appeal to her new love and passion, reading, aroused an unbearable curiosity. She picked up her face from the wet pillow and looked into the Book of Psalms.

Slowly she read in a whisper, "The Torah from Your mouth is better for me than thousands in gold and silver."

Her sister looked deep into her eyes. "Even if you had a thousand rings like that, our Torah is much more precious. Aunt Tzippi loves you very much and she wanted to buy you a special present. Don't worry, I'll help you tell her the ring was lost. She might be upset, but you'll apologize and she'll get over it. But in our house, sweetheart, we never cry about things like rings."

Her sister looked down at her with a smile and brushed her tear-damp hair away from her eyes. "Rings are things, and things are fine, but they won't give you happiness. We have something better than gold: Torah!"

Beth hugged her sister in a wordless thank-you. Little did she know how profound and lasting an effect those words would have on her throughout her lifetime.