It was a bright, sunny day, and we were playing in the playroom (attic of our grandmother's house) when I lost my pretty new earrings and bracelet. I told my older brother, Themnoer. My 11-year-old brother heard me telling Themnoer, and he climbed up on a chest and said, "We all need to find Nela's earrings and bracelet. We need to look for it. We will find it..." I giggled. He stopped and looked at me, then added, "It's not because we are searching, but because we are looking." This caught everyone's attention, and they all burst into laughter.
"You talk too much, Gevin. So much so that you don't know what you're saying. Please consider that there is really no difference between the words 'searching' and 'looking'," Themnoer said. We then heard grandmother coming up the stairs. I frowned when the door opened and Grandmother came in. "It is time to go home," she said. "I will clean up and look for anything you forget. When I find them, I will send Them to your uncle's place. So we went home
empty-handed and disappointed. I couldn't shake off the feeling of losing my beautiful jewelry, but I knew there was nothing more we could do at that moment.
As the days went by, I couldn't help but think about Gevin's words. Maybe there was some truth to what he said, that searching and looking were not the same thing. It made me wonder if we had truly given our best effort in finding my lost accessories.
One evening, as the sun was setting and casting a warm glow over our backyard, I decided to give it one more shot. I convinced my brothers to join me in a thorough search, emphasizing the importance of not just searching, but truly looking for the missing jewelry.
We divided the playroom into sections and meticulously combed through every nook and cranny. It was a long and arduous process, but we didn't give up. Gevin's words kept echoing in my mind, reminding me that we needed to truly look, not just passively search.
After what felt like an eternity, I heard a tiny clinking sound coming from a pile of old toys in a corner. I held my breath as I reached into the mess and pulled out my earrings and bracelet. Excitement and relief washed over me, and I couldn't contain my joy.
I rushed downstairs, holding my precious jewelry tightly in my hand, and shared the good news with my brothers. They were as ecstatic as I was, realizing that Gevin's words had indeed made a difference.
When we visited our grandmother's house again, I recounted the whole story to her. She smiled and nodded, proud of our determination and the lesson we had learned about the power of truly looking.
From that day forward, I understood that there was more to finding something than simply searching for it. It required attentiveness, patience, and a genuine desire to uncover what was lost. And thanks to Gevin's insightful words, I had discovered the importance of truly looking, not just in finding lost jewelry but in all aspects of life.