By Ronnie Michel
After cleaning up much of the aftermath of Hurricane Ida, I accepted an invitation to stay with my daughter’s friend in Alabama. I babysat five granddaughters while my daughters worked remotely.
Yes, I felt guilty for not being home, but I reminded myself that there would still be a lot to do when I got back – like babysitting until school and daycare resumed.
One day we took a break and went to the beach where my granddaughters started collecting seashells. They have carefully researched what they consider to be the perfect seashells and brought their treasures to me for my safekeeping.
I looked at the seashells that they deemed worthy of their evacuation beach memories. What diversity! Among the seashells of various colors were seashells smaller than a fingernail to almost the size of a palm, broken pieces of large seashells and those with a tiny part missing, and seashells with a hole and whole seashells. . In their hearts and minds, the imperfect are as precious as the perfect.
They found something to celebrate in each shell.
I sat down next to their collection and realized that their life will be filled with experiences as varied as their collection of seashells. May they always appreciate and seek the beauty in everyone.