Found some stories and poems about the pearl that give some reflection into how I view this lifestyle that I'd like to share:
A M/s will understand the beauty of not only the pearls story but that of the oyster:)
The formation of a natural pearl begins when a foreign substance slips into the oyster between the mantle and the shell, which irritates the mantle. It's kind of like the oyster getting a splinter. The oyster's natural reaction is to cover up that irritant to protect itself. The mantle covers the irritant with layers of the same nacre substance that is used to create the shell. This eventually forms a pearl.
So a pearl is a foreign substance covered with layers of nacre. Most pearls that we see in jewelry stores are nicely rounded objects, which are the most valuable ones. Not all pearls turn out so well. Some pearls form in an uneven shape -- these are called baroque pearls. Pearls, as you've probably noticed, come in a variety of various colors, including white, black, gray, red, blue and green. Most pearls can be found all over the world, but black pearls are indigenous to the South Pacific.
Cultured pearls are created by the same process as natural pearls, but are given a slight nudge by pearl harvesters. To create a cultured pearl, the harvester opens the oyster shell and cuts a small slit in the mantle tissue. Small irritants are then inserted under the mantle. In freshwater cultured pearls, cutting the mantle is enough to induce the nacre secretion that produces a pearl -- an irritant doesn't have to be inserted.
While cultured and natural pearls are considered to be of equal quality, cultured pearls are generally less expensive because they aren't as rare.
"Legend of the Pearl
Once upon a time, there was a butterfly who was so sad and lonely that he did not want to live anymore. As he stood, very depressed, on the sea-shore, thinking about the uselessness of his life, he heard a soft, clear voice beside him.
"Good morning. Who are you?" The voice asked.
"I'm a butterfly, but who are you? A speaking stone? I don't believe it!"
The voice replied. "I'm not a stone. I'm a shell, an oyster! I'm a living being just like you are."
"Would you like to be my friend?" The butterfly asked. "I have no friends, and I'm very unhappy because nobody loves me. I want to die in the sea."
"I don't want you to die," said the shell. "I am just as lonely and sad as you, and I too have never known what it is like to be loved, but, now that you are here neither of us is alone. Stay with me, be my winged prince and tell me all about the things that you have seen in the world; things that the eyes of a daughter-of-the sea will never see."
The butterfly stayed at the shell's side and they grew to love each other, more than anyone could ever imagine. The butterfly had collected all the colours in the world in his wings and he gave them, as a bouquet, to his sweetheart, while the shell gave, as her gift from the sea, all the mysterious whispers of the deep.
Their joy was short-lived, as butterflies have a shorter lifespan than shells, and when the butterfly died, the shell buried him in the sand. Then she cried and cried so much that she died of her sadness, and was dissolved by her tears.
Next morning, on a small mound of sand, marked with a coral cross, appeared the very first pearl, made from the tears of the shell, the colours from the butterfly's wings and their love."
