Fingering the little golden cross that hung around his neck, Pip smiled. This necklace is his most prized possession, because it belonged to his mother. Pip remembered the day she gave it to him as if it were yesterday.
Gerogiana Pirrup was a beautiful woman. She had long, flowing blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She had been a high-spirited and happy girl in her youth, but six years of mothering her children and suffering from her illness had aged her and made her weary. By the time Pip was six, his mother had fallen deathly ill. He stayed by her side as she laid in her death bed.
Pip remembered that weak smile she gave him that one day. Her last day. She raised a weak arm up to her neck, slipping off her golden cross. She handed it to Pip. "Philip, son. I wish for you to have this." Pip shook his head in protest. He knew that the necklace was very dear to his mother. It belonged to her mother, it was all she had left of her. But Gerogiana silenced him, telling him she wanted him to have it, as a reminder of his dear mother.
Tears flowed down Pip's cheeks. He griped the necklace tight in his tiny six year old hands. Swallowing hard, he nodded, agreeing to keep the necklace.
Latter that night, Gerogiana Pirrup passed away peacefully, with her son, daughter and husband at her side. Pip remembered how they all silently cried together over his mothers cold body.