I was nearly there. The red top of the lighthouse was within my grasp. Just a few more steps and I would be in a place my father had talked about during many a bedtime story.

Pride emanated from him as he used to whisper to me about the foreign vessels that he was witness to on the shore.

I remember shivers radiating through my skin as he once described the stolen ship that had been taken over by the French pirates. Shaving so close to the rocks had caused much of the treasure to fall overboard into the sea below.

Always a man for adventure, he visited the rocks the next morning. Sparkling in the morning sun was a treasure he would never forget. He swiftly picked up, dusted the sand from it and popped it in his pocket.

Low and behold, the diamond gold band would make itself on the finger of his lover - my mother.