What Was Broken Becomes Beautiful

What Was Broken Becomes Beautiful: The Powder-Glass Bead Story

By Wanda Haber-Kucharsky

Hello everyone. Let me introduce myself through my ghostwriter, Wanda Haber-Kucharsky, one of the Judaica & Art Shop’s Project Betzalel artists.

I am Powder Glass Bead from Ghana. You might have seen me dangling from Wanda’s ears, circling her wrist, and hugging her neck. Sometimes I am accompanied by beautiful handmade brass pieces, also from Ghana. Sometimes by special charms of Judaica.

This is my creation story.

I was born from broken things. Long before becoming a bead, I was a shard of glass, part of a bottle that had travelled far, passed from hand to hand, until one day it broke and was discarded. I lay in the red earth of Krobo Land, in Ghana, among other fragments, waiting. One day, gentle but practiced hands gathered me up. I was washed, sorted, crushed and ground patiently into fine, sandy powder. This was not an ending. This was a beginning. I felt myself change, sharp edges giving way to soft ones, full of possibility.

I was poured into a clay mould, handmade by village Artisans and shaped by generations of knowledge, passed from parent to child, from elder to apprentice. A thin cassava stalk marked my center, promising a hole and the ability to travel again, but as adornment, not waste. Then came the fire. I was placed in a kiln, fueled by wood, and watched carefully by my maker. The heat was fierce, transformative. Inside the kiln, my powder fused, grain by grain, becoming solid and strong. When the kiln cooled, I emerged whole, but not yet my full self.

Using natural pigments and finer glass powders, my maker adorned me with dots, lines, symbols, and patterns, evoking ancient protections, celebrations, continuity, and spirit. Every design carried a memory. Every colour held an intention. When I returned to the kiln for a second time, the patterns melted into my skin, where they would remain forever, a constant reminder of who I was and where I came from. Then I was polished by hand, washed in water, and strung alongside my siblings, as bands of beads. Together, we held the stories of life’s great moments: births, weddings, rites of passage, and remembrance. In Ghana, we beads are not just ornaments. We are symbols of identity, worn to honour ancestors and mark joy. We are given, inherited, and always treasured.

Long ago, before coins existed, we served as currency, travelling in pouches tied to waists and necks, carefully counted, our value understood. Along trade routes of West Africa, beads like me spoke many languages, moved from village to village, hand to hand, coast to inland. We helped seal agreements, mark alliances, and smooth negotiations. We were exchanged for gold dust, kola nuts, salt, cloth, and the essentials of life.

Then I travelled across oceans, across cultures, arriving in Toronto, Ontario, where I roomed with a lovely woman who treasured me. She sold me to Wanda, whose gentle, curious hands craft me into jewellery. As I adorn those on both sides of the ocean, I remember the earth. I remember the fire. I carry the rhythms of my homeland, the patience of hands that shaped me, and the proof that beauty can rise from the broken.

I am a Powder Glass Bead.

A note directly from Wanda:

It is worth noting that Ghana is home to a small Jewish Community, with a congregation called Tifereth Israel Synagogue. Although powder-glass beads are not used in Jewish ritual, both the beads and this community are shaped by the same place, sharing a connection through their common home. Jewellery that joins powder-glass beads and Ghanaian brass with Judaica charms symbolically brings these two ancient cultures into conversation.

You can see and purchase my jewellery made with these beads, along with fabulous creations from other Project Betzalel artists, at the wonderful Judaica & Art Shop in Holy Blossom Temple, operated by Women of Holy Blossom. Open on Sundays from 9:30 AM to 12:30 PM or by appointment via [email protected].