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She had been entrusted with this heirloom and set out to take great care of it, but the truth remained, no amount of dusting or polishing could hide the unavoidable wounds of time. When she found it buried, her efforts felt futile. It was barely discernible amid the debris. Though with its sturdy frame surviving the day, the wounds now shone with pride. They were no longer wounds of a wasted effort, but those of life and pure love.