The object is held by a voluminously looping gold chain; each chink taking on a rounded rectangular shape. The chain connects to a golden cross that is shaped liked logs rather than flattened wood and gives off a glassy sheen. A forlorn man, cloaked in silver, is pinned to to the cross by spread limbs with minute detail; including a downcast forsaken head. This crucifix has had many owners, most of whom are unknown, but now rests forever around my grandfather’s neck. The only known origin of the cross can be tracked back Emmanuel Gonzales; a Jersey City Resident, railway worker, and an unknown illegal immigrant. Emmanuel met Mary Scirocci  in 1932 and immediately became amorous. It took only two years for them to get married and be expecting a baby boy, which they would name Emmanuel after his father. They suffered together through the horrific ebb of the Great Depression, when neither of them could find permanent vocational positions. Both being immigrants and having no educational experience made it extremely difficult for them to find adequate work. Emmanuel would stay out at odd hours gambling and nursing a horrible drinking habit, while Mary was left alone to raise young Emmanuel. They would gather as a proper family only once a week; on Sundays Emmanuel would don his only suit and kneel soberly and solemnly on the church’s pew with the rest of his family with the gold cross hung around his neck. By 1937 prospects took an auspicious turn for the Gonzales family; Emmanuel was given a low paying job working to realign the Hudson and Manhattan Railroad to Newark Penn Station. Despite the somewhat promising circumstances, Emmanuel began to drink heavily again and disappear for weeks without work only to come home disparately to yell expletives at his wife and show her cheek the back of his hand. Mary, frightened, started to look into her husband’s disappearances only to find life shattering discoveries. Emmanuel had been gambling their family money away to the New Jersey mafia, hanging around and indulging in prostitutes, and, most shockingly of all, was in this country illegally. On one night of extreme physical and verbal abuse, Mary called the police on Emmanuel. Emmanuel woke his little son, now around 5 years old, to tell the story of his cross’ history and upon finishing he took the cross from around his neck and slipped it over his son’s head. Emmanuel patiently awaited the police, was arrested, and never seen or heard from again.

Emmanuel grew up to cherish the crucifix. He found solace in his weekly participation in the church. He found virtue, guidance, and forgiveness from Our Father to replace the father he was now bereft of. The crucifix followed him to Seton Hall where he played baseball and studied theology. It followed him to the military, where he served for four years; all the time writing love letters to his future wife Lois. It followed through his wedding day, the birth of 5 healthy kids and one sorrowful miscarriage, and, despite his attempts to pass it along through the family tree, it follows him to church every single day at the age of 80. My grandfather gives the crucifix for all of his descendants to wear for one year following his or her communion, so the crucifix has been made into an important family tradition which imbues it with so much meaning. And despite my complete lack of faith, I still feel a sacred aura emanating from this crucifix.