Moishe carrying Maeven to the doctor
The box Zella received from the bank
Faridah's thirteenth birthday
Click the puzzle piece to work a jigsaw puzzle
The Indigo Jewel
Chapter 9 - Waiting In Silence
Intro,
1,
2,
3,
4,
5,
6,
7,
8,
9,
10,
11,
12,
13,
14,
15,
16,
17,
Epilogue,
Afterward
It's better to talk to a woman and think about God than talk to God and think about a woman. - Moishe Goldstein
Maeven Rivka Goldstein and her husband Moishe walked through the streets of Zurich, coming home from work. Maeven came with him to the office several days a week to help with the bookkeeping. The air was crisp with the promise of winter, and the gas lamps flickered in the dimming light. She and Moishe had been married for eight years and were walking home from Moishe’s import business. He was a smart businessman and the company was growing quickly. They walked hand in hand, talking about the news of the day and their daughter Verene, who was growing by leaps and bounds. Only six years old, she was their joy in life. She was currently at home with their maid, Greta.
“Verene said the most precocious thing yesterday,” Maeven offered, trying to start a conversation.
“Such chutzpah. She’s always been a bit of a show-off,” Moishe retorted. He tended to be aloof around children, even his own.
“Yes, but she wants me to help her make chocolate,” Maeven replied. “I don’t know how to make chocolate.”
“Ask Greta to help her. She made chocolate for us last year for Hanukkah.” Moishe didn’t seem impressed, and Maeven frowned at him. Just then, Moishe heard a “pop” and looked around to see where it came from. It sounded a little like a gunshot. When he turned back, his wife was slumped on the ground moaning.
“Maeven! Maeven!” he shouted, but she did not respond. He gathered her up in his arms and carried her as quickly as he could to a doctor he knew several blocks away.
Maeven was severely wounded. Once he got her into the doctor’s office she awakened for a few moments, groaning and crying, then she fainted again. The doctor was busy preparing for the operation.
“How bad is it, doctor?” Moishe asked, deeply concerned.
“I’m not going to lie to you, sir. It’s bad. The bullet seems to be lodged in her stomach. I’ll remove it and sew her back up, but this doesn’t usually end well,” the doctor replied. After the operation was over, Maeven was given a bed in the doctor’s clinic and a nurse to look after her through the night. But she never regained consciousness again. Moishe sat beside her bed all night, anxious and distraught. In the morning she passed away quietly.
In his heart, Moishe knew the bullet had been meant for him. Many people in the city hated successful Jews, and they often shouted obscenities at him. The grieving family gathered her jewelry and, not knowing the jewel’s significance, placed everything in the bank for safekeeping. Moishe did his best to raise Verene, but they were never close. He sent her off to a boarding school when she was 12 and she only came home on holidays to visit.
For more than five decades, the jewel sat in darkness, undisturbed yet ever aware. No one even opened the box. The voices within the jewel debated. Had their lineage been broken? Would the connection remain if the holder was unable to pass it on to her daughter? The uncertainty was unlike anything they had known in thousands of years.
Then, in the 1930s, as the world reeled from economic calamity, some Swiss banks were forced to close. Items in safe deposit boxes were returned to the owner on record. Among those receiving long-forgotten assets was Zella Abramov, Maeven’s granddaughter. Born into hardship, Zella had little time for sentimentality. She worked long hours as a seamstress to make enough money to survive. When she received the jewel, her first thought was to sell it, believing it was of value. But she hesitated for reasons she did not understand.
Then one day she decided to examine the jewel more closely. When she picked it up and held it in her hand, a rush of warmth flooded her mind. Memories that were not her own appeared, along with voices of women she had never met who were calling out her name. The jewel was reaching out to her, and Maeven’s voice - clear and steady - spoke within her mind.
“Zella, do not be afraid. We have been waiting decades for you to find us.”
Overwhelmed, Zella dropped the jewel on the table. She had heard stories as a child, tales whispered by women in her family. They were bedtime fables to her. But as the visions filled her mind - glimpses of Edwina centuries ago and women guiding the fate of nations - she started to understand. In the coming days she learned much more about her heritage. The loving voices of hundreds of women as they told her their stories literally changed her life. With the jewel’s help she left her low-paying job as a seamstress and began working in a watch factory, managing the workers as they made watches. Her economic prospects greatly improved, she had more time for reading and learning about the world. She also had more time to spend with her grandmothers, learning about their history and individual lives.
By 1939, war was consuming Europe. Her grandmothers urged Zella to flee before the approaching storm. With their help, she found her way to England. She took an aptitude test, and secured an analyst position within British intelligence. There, she met a man named Alan Turing, a brilliant mathematician working to break the German Enigma code and turn the tide of the war.
At first, Turing saw her only as another analyst, but soon, he recognized her unique ability to see patterns others in the group did not. He did not know the source of her insight, only that her mind worked differently from the others. The Jewel gave her vivid dreams at night, dreams about the men who created the Enigma code, amplifying her already intelligent mind and providing insights into the patterns the team was attempting to decipher.
One evening, after a long day of work, Turing turned to her. “You are seeing things the rest of your team misses. I’m curious how you do this.”
Zella hesitated. She could not tell him the truth. Instead, she offered a small smile. “I’ve always been good at seeing what’s hidden. It’s my gift.”
“Well, your gift is certainly helping our efforts. We would not be nearly so far along without your contributions. I just want to thank you personally.” he replied in a kind voice.
Through their work, the decryption efforts continued. A crucial transmission was intercepted and decrypted just in time to prevent an attack that would have killed hundreds of British soldiers. The Jewel and the line of women protecting it continues to shape history from the shadows.
After the war, Zella chose to remain in England. She met and married an Indian merchant, a gentle man who knew little of her past but cherished her deeply. They had several children, but it was their daughter, Faridah, who intrigued Zella the most.
As a child, Faridah would reach for the Jewel whenever it lay on her mother’s desk. Sometimes, she claimed to hear the whispers of women in her mind. She even mentioned some of their names to prove her case.
Zella watched her with growing pride, sensing the Jewel had chosen its next guardian. Zella had another daughter who was a year older, but Faridah would be the one to become the jewel’s guardian and carry on her legacy.
Several years went by, and as Faridah's thirteenth birthday approached, Zella prepared a private ceremony in their home. Using her skills as a seamstress, she crafted an elaborate dress, sewing into its lining the names of the grandmothers who had come before them. A special pocket was hidden inside, designed to hold the Jewel. On the evening of the celebration, Zella called Faridah into a quiet room at dusk, lighting candles to create a sacred space.
“Tonight, you step into the lineage of those who came before us,” Zella said softly, placing her hands on Faridah’s head. She recited a traditional Jewish blessing, whispering words of strength, wisdom, and encouragement. The flickering candlelight cast shifting shadows as they sat together, the Jewel in their entwined hands.
As the night deepened, they communed with their grandmothers together, their voices reaching across time. Faridah sat in awe, feeling the weight of the knowledge she was receiving. She did not fully understand yet, but she knew this was only the beginning.
For the next seven years, mother and daughter shared the Jewel, learning together. Zella taught Faridah not only how to listen, but how to search for answers. Then, with Faridah marrying an Englishman and Zella leaving the country, Zella knew it was time to pass the Jewel on to her daughter. With tears in her eyes, she placed it into her daughter’s hands.
“I will write to you often from India,” Zella said, knowing she might never return. “But you are not abandoned. Your grandmothers will always be with you, and when I pass away my voice will join them.”
“I hope that day is far away, Mother,” Faridah replied. She knew her mother was making a great sacrifice, one that had been made hundreds of times in the past, and that she herself would make someday.
Faridah clutched the Jewel, feeling the warmth of her mother’s touch linger. She understood now that she was part of something much greater than herself. As she watched her parents leave on the ship, she knew she now carried not just the Jewel, but the strength of all the women who had come before her.
Copyright © 2025 Elton Smith