My mother says that I was always a curtain climber, and I guess that this day proved it. I began with a folding chair and added a small stool to the seat of the chair. I even thought to place a fluffy pillow over the stool, just in case, before I strategically began to climb my creative version of a ladder. I was still just a little out of reach. I got on my tip toes, wiggling my fingers and hoping to somehow grow the extra two inches necessary to be able to claim my prize when I was snatched quickly from behind.
Suddenly my mother was yelling at me and it looked like her granny was trying not to cry. In her hands she protectively held the sand dollar that I had tried so hard to reach. Her breathing was labored and there was a sad shine in her eyes that threatened to spill over onto her weathered and lined cheeks.
I didn’t understand. I had just wanted to see the pretty shell. I began to cry tearfully the way small children will when denied their heart’s desire, until Granny asked me in a cracked and ancient voice,
“Have I ever told you how God gave the sand dollars to the Guardian Angels to live in?”
