My mother was about 17 or 18 years old living in Poland.
She and her best friend decided to go to Paris, France for a vacation.
Because of Poland's prime location in the center of Europe, my entire family has always been able to enjoy countless vacations in the Alps, Paris, Barcelona, London and countless other European locations that are far far out of my reach and always will be.
The two inseparable friends took a train over the borders and made their way to the City of Lights. They strolled along thestreets of Paris, enjoyed coffee and cigarettes while people watching at Paris's numerous cafes, saw the Notre Dame and basked in the romance that is Paris.
One day, my mother's best friend met a Parisian. He was suave, dark, macho, handsome, very French and proud of it.
He swept my mother's best friend off her feet with his romantic gestures and words spoken in his french accent.
When it came time to leave Paris and return home to Wroclaw, my mother's best friend gave her this ring.
It was to remember her.
She would be staying in Paris to marry her handsome Frenchman.
Her name was Kasia.