My Daughter Chose the Pyrite I Kept at the Back
Reviewed and edited by the Editorial Team
Published
I wanted her school display to show off my colourful crystals. She wanted to draw one awkward little cube, and needed me to stop putting other things in front of it.
My daughter had asked to take one of my crystals to school. By the time she came to choose, I had covered the table with them.
I put the amethyst at the front. It was purple, it sparkled, and its name was easy enough to practise before bed. The little piece of pyrite stayed at the back, where I usually kept it.
She reached past the amethyst.
“Who cut this into squares?”
“Pyrite can grow in cubes,” I said. “It doesn't need someone to carve each face.”
She turned it slowly on its padded tray. A smaller cube stuck out from behind the large one. From her side of the table, only part of it showed.
“But how does the little one fit in there?”
I started to explain how crystals grow together. Before I had finished, she fetched her drawing book.
She drew the large cube, then stopped at the smaller one. Her pencil hovered where its edge disappeared. I was still holding the amethyst.
“You could take this one too,” I said. “Then everyone could see a few different kinds.”
“Mum, can you leave that bit clear? I can't see the back.”
I moved the amethyst. She leaned sideways, rubbed out a line and tried again.
I had imagined her standing in front of the class with a colourful collection, confidently naming each piece. I had even rehearsed what I would tell her about them. She was trying to work out one corner, and I kept offering her something else.
“Do you want me to turn it?” I asked.
“Just a little. Wait—there. Now I can see where that line goes.”
I held the tray while she drew. I had planned to pack everything away before bed. Instead, I pulled my chair closer so we could both see the same side.
Her first drawing showed two complete cubes side by side. The next left part of the little one hidden. She laid them together and grinned.
“The first one looks like I pulled them apart.”
I laughed. “I see what you mean.”
We still needed a card for school. I wrote PYRITE at the top and reached for another pen to add the facts.
“Could we put a question first?” she asked. “I want to see if anyone thinks somebody made it, like I did.”
We turned the card over. She wrote, Would you think someone made this? Underneath, we added that pyrite can grow in cubes. I explained that a square shape alone couldn't tell us everything about a stone, or whether a particular piece had been worked on. She wanted to know if that had to go on the card too.
“No,” I said. “But if someone asks something we don't know, you can say we'll find out.”
The next afternoon, I was waiting to hear whether she had remembered the name. Instead, she pulled two creased drawings out of her bag.
“One boy thought the small cube was stuck on,” she told me. “I showed him why it looked separate in my first drawing.”
She spread the paper on the table and asked me to turn the pyrite to the same angle again. I had been about to put it away. I sat down beside her.
“Are there other stones that look as if somebody made them?”
Several names came to mind. This time I didn't list them.
“We could choose one to look at this weekend. What do you want to try drawing?”
She wasn't sure yet. For now, she wanted the pyrite where she could see it. We put it at the front of the shelf, with her drawing behind it.
I moved the amethyst back. When she came over to check the arrangement, I asked whether I had hidden the small cube.
“A little,” she said, and turned the tray towards us.