Thatâ€™s whatâ€™s left of itâ€” six safety pins from a chain I once wore beneath my dress to Saylorâ€™s School and Forks Mennonite Church. Whoâ€™d suspect vanity in a girl so shy she seldom spoke? I liked how each pin clicked shut to link to the next and how they encircled me like a charm of daisies I counted round and round. Some would have said that was a sin. The same folks whoâ€™d pocket a shiny buckeye against the ache of rheumatism. I took my necklace off when I joined my life with Peteâ€™s. I needed pins for diapers, school notes, lost buttons, loose strapsâ€” catastrophes only the quick clasp of hidden silver fixed.