Beads Me

I was holding a mala I had ordered online. While I gently rubbed the worked beads between my fingers, I idly wondered where the beads had come from and who had worked on them? My mind wandered and I envisioned a group of elderly men and some younger boys sitting around talking and laughing. One boy in particular is soon going to join his father as an adult. It's not fully automated and it's not fully hand-made, somewhere between the two.
A few moments later I wake from my vision, uncertain if I've seen the way things were when my mala was made or if it was something older still. Or, heck, if I've even had a vision worth mentioning?
That little voice that warns us when we're about to do something stupid is getting louder and I'm listening more than ever. It's saved me several times in the past few weeks. If this keeps up, I might just have a conscience worth listening too!