Avera Facebook ad: “I Stole a Necklace From a Scottish Castle”

About this ad

Meta Ad Library ID

1632928521840046

Platforms

Facebook, Instagram and Audience Network

Relaunches

3

Niche

Jewelry & Watches

How we count

Ad text

I stole a necklace from a hotel in Scotland last summer. I'm not proud of it, but it was the first thing in years that had kept me calm. Three weeks later, the general manager wrote me a letter. I should tell you who I am first. I'm 58, and I'm the one who gets worked up over everything. I get worked up over traffic, over a late email, over a phone call I have to make. I've been like that since I was about fifty, and everyone in my family knows it. That summer, my husband and I stayed in an old castle hotel in the Highlands. In every room of that castle, a small silver necklace hangs on a hook by the door, with a card next to it. "Please wear it during your stay. When you leave, hang it back on its hook for the next guest." It's a tradition of the house. The necklace belongs to the room, like the robe, and nobody is supposed to take it home. So every morning I put it around my neck before going down to breakfast, and every night I hung it back on its hook. At first, I thought it was just the vacation, the slow mornings and nowhere to be. But on the third morning I noticed that my hand was resting on that necklace, and that I felt calm. I mean really calm, the way I hadn't felt in years. And I thought: it's the necklace. I need this necklace. Here's the part that got me. That trip had everything that normally ruins a vacation for me. We were driving on the wrong side of the road, the rain cancelled our boat trip, and my husband lost the car key on the second day. Normally I would have been a wreck by then. Instead, I was calmer than I ever am at home, where I have a whole drawer of things I bought to calm down. There are crystals in it, a copper bracelet, a lavender spray, about twenty things in all. I love them, but they stay in that drawer, and they are never on me when I need them. I took the necklace off and looked at it closely. The pendant was a silver knot, with a tiny green heart in the middle, which I took for decoration. There was no brand name on it anywhere. I called reception. "Hi, I'm in room 14. I wanted to ask about the necklace by the door. What brand is it?" There was a pause. "I'm so sorry, madam, I'm not able to share that information." "Sorry?" "It's a tradition of the house, and we keep our supplier private." I asked to speak to a manager, and a very polite woman told me the same thing. I asked if the hotel shop sold it, and it didn't. I hung up. My husband was reading by the fire. "I'm taking it home." "You are not taking it home. It belongs to the hotel." "I know. I'm telling you now that I'm about to commit a crime, so you can't say I didn't warn you." That night was our last night. I took the necklace off its hook, rolled it in a sweater and put it at the bottom of my suitcase. I felt guilty all evening, and I did it anyway. We checked out at eleven the next morning and flew home. By the time a housekeeper noticed the empty hook in room 14, I was over the Atlantic. At home I wore it every day. And the calm I had felt in Scotland stayed with me, week after week. Then, on a Friday, a letter arrived from Scotland. It was handwritten, and it was from the general manager of the hotel. "Dear Mrs [name redacted], on the morning you left, we noticed that the necklace from room 14 was no longer on its hook. If you wished to take it home with you, we would have preferred that you ask us. Our necklaces are made for us by a small supplier, and we do not sell them. Would you be kind enough to tell us whether you have it? With warm regards, [name redacted], General Manager." I cried at the kitchen table. He wasn't threatening me. The general manager of the most expensive hotel I have ever stayed in had taken the time to write to me by hand, kindly, to ask if I had taken his necklace. I wrote back and told him the truth. I sent a check with my letter. And I asked him if he could tell me the brand, because it was the only thing that had ever kept me calm. He answered two weeks later and sent my check back. He wrote that I could keep the necklace as a souvenir of my stay, and he asked me not to do it again. He did not tell me the brand. I did not blame him. I wore the stolen necklace for six weeks, and nobody else was allowed to touch it. When my daughter tried it on one day, I felt sick until she gave it back. During those six weeks, I saw the changes. In the second week, I had a flat tire on the freeway. I called the tow truck, and I noticed that my hands weren't shaking. In the fourth week, my husband, who never notices anything, looked at me across the dinner table. "You're different. You seem lighter." "It's the necklace," I told him. He didn't believe me. But I only had one necklace. By the sixth week, my daughter had asked me twice where she could buy the same one, and I had no answer for her. I could hardly write to the general manager and ask him for a second one. Then in August a friend sent me a text. She had heard the story of the stolen necklace at a dinner party, because it is the only interesting thing I have ever done. "I think I found your necklace. It's from a brand called Avera. Go and look, and tell me if I'm right." I went on the website and looked at the photos. It was the same silver knot, made of three loops, with the same little heart in the middle. It was exactly the necklace I had stolen. At 11 p.m. I was still on that website, reading everything about it. The knot is a Celtic trinity knot, and some people call it the witch knot. Women have worn it around their neck for centuries to protect their peace. And the little heart isn't decoration. It's a birthstone. There is one color for each month of the year, and the belief is that the knot works even better when you wear the stone of your own birth month. The heart on my stolen necklace was green, which is the month of May. I was born in September. For almost two months, I had been wearing someone else's stone. And if that one already kept me so calm, I wanted to know what mine would do. I ordered two. They were running buy one, get one free, so I took one with my stone and one with my daughter's, who was born in June. The two of them cost me less than one dinner at that hotel, and I had been ready to pay a lot more. They arrived on a Tuesday. I put mine on the kitchen table next to the stolen one, and I compared them for a long time. It was the same necklace. The only difference was the heart, which was deep blue on mine, for September. I don't know if Avera is the supplier of that hotel, and I don't care. I thought this necklace was so rare that I had to steal it, and it was for sale on the internet all along. My daughter has worn hers every day since. I have ordered four more, for my sister, for her daughter, and for two friends who were at that dinner party. The stolen necklace is in a box in my closet now, with my wedding tiara and my children's school reports. I keep it as a souvenir of the only crime of my life. If you are the one who gets worked up over everything, you don't have to steal anything. It's called the Witch Knot Birthstone Necklace, it's from Avera, and you can simply order it. Right now they're running buy one, get one free, and you have 30 days to send it back if it does nothing for you. Make sure you order from the official Avera site. There are cheap copies of this knot, and women who bought them say they turned copper within weeks. Susan, 58, Austin P.S. I have not been back to that hotel. I would love to, but I'm not sure they would give me a room. P.P.S. Choose the stone of your own birth month. The months sell out one at a time, so don't wait until yours is gone. P.P.P.S. Get two. Your daughter will try yours on once, and then she will ask you where hers is. That's what happened in my house. Link 👉 https://avera-paris.com/products/avera-witch-knot-birthstone-necklace

Where the ad sends people

avera-paris.com

I Stole a Necklace From a Scottish Castle

Avera Paris