

My husband laughed at me because I bought a small enameled egg at the flea market, but he was very surprised.
First of all, I have to tell you that I’m a flea market addict. I can’t help it; I love the idea of browsing through the miscellaneous objects of a hundred lives and finding treasure among the discarded trash.
It all started when I was eleven years old and spending the summer with my grandmother in New England. On weekends, she and I would haunt every flea market or street fair within a hundred miles, looking for “prehistoric jewelry,” as she called her finds.

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Let me tell you, even today, as a mother and grandmother, nothing warms my heart more than digging through a bin of odds and ends and finding a little something that tells me I’ve struck gold.
My husband doesn’t understand at all. Sam is a charming, kind, and hardworking man, but he doesn’t understand my need to find treasures in the trash.
That’s the only thing between us, the fact that I bring home “second-hand jewelry” or, as he calls it, “junk.” I suppose it would be easier for me to give up my little hobby, but honestly, I don’t want to.
Nothing gives me more pleasure than going to a flea market on the weekend with $20 in my pocket, determined to find a Van Gogh for 50 cents. Sam may scold me for wasting money and hoarding junk, but I won’t give it up.
Not that he’s complained about it lately, in fact, this weekend he asked if he could come with me.

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About a month ago, I went to a neighboring town for its street fair on a Saturday morning. I was impatient, and my merchant senses led me to a modest stall where a man was selling trinkets.
There, among the china cups and bisque bergere jugs, was a small porcelain and enamel egg, about the size of a real one. I admit it wasn’t a particularly pretty or unusual piece, but I wanted it.
“How much for the egg?” I asked the man. He looked at me with beady eyes. I felt like he was examining my clothes, my purse, and wondering how much I would pay.
“Only $25, ma’am, and let me tell you what a bargain that is!” he said. I shook my head.
“$25 for a cheap porcelain egg?” I asked. “I’ll give you 5.”
One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

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“FIVE DOLLARS!” It was the man’s turn to jump. “For this piece of history? For this little treasure? Madam, it’s French porcelain.”
“That’s right!” I shook my head, “So if I turn it over, I won’t see ‘made in China’ stamped on the bottom?”
The man hesitated, which indicated he wasn’t sure, so I pressed my advantage. “Tell you what, I’ll take it, without touching it, for 10 dollars.”
The man grumbled a little under his breath, but he wrapped the egg in some newspaper and took my ten dollars. I was thrilled! I had a feeling about the egg! I wandered through the rest of the fair, but my heart wasn’t in it. I had my treasure and went home.
I walked in smiling and kissed Sam. He was sitting on the couch reading his newspaper. “Hey, hun,” he said. “Did you find any trash?”
“Hey! Yes, actually…” I took the wrapped egg out of my purse and carefully unveiled it.

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Sam looked at him skeptically. “Is that it? Is that what you found?”
“Yes!” I cried, “isn’t he pretty?”
“What’s that for?” he asked, turning the egg over in his hands.
“I think it was a jewelry box,” I replied. “Do you see the little metal latch and hinges?” I picked up the egg and tried to open it.
“I think it’s rusted shut,” Sam said, then turned the egg over. “No wonder, look! Made in Hong Kong! How much did you pay for it?”

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I blushed as I retrieved the egg. “Ten dollars,” I admitted defensively, “but the man wanted 25.”
Sam laughed contemptuously in my face. “You’ve been had again!”
I felt tears welling up in my eyes. “Well, I like it!” I shook the little egg and heard something move inside. “There’s something inside!”
Sam sneered, “Oh, I’m sure it’s a diamond,” he mocked me, and took the egg from my hand. With a deft twist of his strong fingers, he opened the egg. Inside was a tiny parcel of red silk.

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I took out the small package and unwrapped it carefully. In the folds of the red silk shimmered a pair of earrings. They were exquisite! Of course, they were fakes, I thought, but magnificent copies.
Sam picked up one of the earrings and looked at it closely. The clear center stone was surrounded by a halo of green gems, and Sam breathed on it. He looked at the earring and jumped.
“Jen,” he said, “I think they’re real!”
“What?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

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“I saw that documentary about diamonds a while back, and they said a real diamond doesn’t fog up with your breath. Look!” and he blows on the big, clear stone again.
I looked at it. No fog. I looked at Sam, then shook my head. “Hun, look at the size of these stones. They’d be worth millions! They’re just good fakes.”
But Sam was enthusiastic. “Let’s go see the jeweler at the mall and ask him to appraise them.”
“Sam,” I told him, “he’s going to make us pay for this!”

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But Sam didn’t care, so we drove to the mall and waited with bated breath while the man mumbled over the earrings and tested them. “They are definitely diamonds,” he said, “and 18-karat white gold.”
These look like emeralds to me. Old-cut, all that. These earrings are probably Art Deco, based on the style and workmanship. You should get them for about 300; depending on the quality of the stones, it could be more.”
“Three hundred dollars?” Sam asks.
“Three hundred thousand, minimum,” replied the jeweler. I felt the ground give way beneath my feet and had to grab Sam for support. I had found a REAL treasure!

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It turned out the jeweler was wrong. The earrings sold for $3 million at auction. As a result, we now have a nice little nest egg in the bank, and the porcelain egg takes pride of place on the mantelpiece in our new home.
As for Sam, he’s now an antiques enthusiast, and he accompanies me to every flea market and antiques fair. We haven’t found that Van Gogh yet, but we’re hopeful!
What can we learn from this story?
- One man’s trash is another man’s treasure . Jen thought she’d find a “used gem,” and she literally did.
- Respect other people’s interests. Sam mocked Jen’s passion for flea markets, but she ended up finding a pair of earrings worth $3 million.
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Read also: My stepsister gave my fiancé a mysterious box during his speech at our wedding – everyone was shocked when he opened it
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