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tourbi
Age: 57 Zodiac: 
| Joined: 09 Jan 2008 |
| Posts: 2640 |
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Location: tourbiland, at the foot of Pikes Peak, USA
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 Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2008 4:30 pm |
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The Treasure
Paula F. Blevins
“Eric, do you want to go look for shells?”
My youngest popped his head up from under the sheet and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “What time is it?”
“About 6:30,” I whispered.
He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “Is anyone else going?”
“No. They’re all still asleep.”
It was the last day of our annual family beach vacation. My husband and other two children preferred to sleep in after staying up late each night, unlike my fellow morning buddy, Eric.
“Okay. I’ll go. Don’t leave yet.”
“I won’t,” I assured him. “I’ll wait on you.”
My eight-year-old threw on shorts and a T-shirt faster than ever. We headed out the beach house door, down the back stairs, past the pool, and onto the beach. I kicked off my flip-flops and waited while he removed his sandals. Other early-morning risers dotted the shoreline. With shoes in hand, we squished our toes through the soft sand and walked toward the water’s edge to begin our hunt.
“Maybe we’ll find a sand dollar, Mommy.”
“Maybe. I’ve wanted to find a whole one for a long time. I’ve looked, but only found lots of pieces.”
He looked up at me. “If I find one, I’ll give it to you.”
I smiled while the hint of tears began to form in my eyes. His tender heart brought him out this early in search of something for me. Now my quest had become his.
While we walked and searched, we talked about his friends, his brother and sister, school, and dreams he’d kept. The conversation stopped whenever he found a piece of a sand dollar.
“Is this one?”
“Yup, sure is.” I added it to the growing collection of pieces he already found. With my other hand, I tousled his hair and rubbed his back, trying to avoid getting sand from my flip-flops all over him. “It’s amazing that you just learned what a sand dollar looked like a few days ago, and now you can spot pieces of them better and faster than anyone.”
He beamed. “Maybe we’ll find a whole one since we got up early.”
“Maybe, honey.” I was hopeful, but the longer we looked, the more I doubted.
An older lady walked up to us. “Here,” she said, handing us a beautiful round shell with spirals on it. “I collect these. They’re called shark’s eyes. I just love them.”
Eric and I examined the shell. The spirals spun inward to form an eye in the colorful center.
“That’s cool,” Eric whispered in my ear.
“Yes, it is cool,” I repeated loudly for the lady. “Thank you.”
Soon he and I were back on our quest with the new discovery, chatting happily. I picked up a few tiny shells because they were cute, flawless, and easy to carry.
“We should have brought a bucket. Why didn’t we think of that?” I asked, while trying to balance all the shells in my left hand.
He giggled after looking at the overflowing pile. “If we find a whole one, we won’t need all of those pieces anymore. That’ll make it easier to carry.”
We continued down the beach toward the end of the island. At a patch of larger rocks, we stopped to scour the area for more treasure. With one foot on a large rock and the other in the shallow water, I searched.
Suddenly, I heard Eric ask again from the flat beach area, “Is this one?”
I turned and looked down at his open hand, expecting to see another piece like the others. My eyes grew big and my mouth might have fallen open. “Oh, my gosh, Eric. You found one. You found a whole sand dollar!”
His blue eyes danced with excitement, and he smiled like it was Christmas. He showed me where he found it, and then we studied it carefully. The grayish-brown wafer fit perfectly on my palm. Packed sand covered most of its star design on the top, leaving only four outside slits and one inner slit visible, but to us it was absolutely perfect.
I handed it back to him. “It’s hard to find a whole one because they break so easily. That’s why this is such a treasure you’ve found.”
He pushed his hand with the sand dollar toward me. “You can have it.”
He did it to me again. Tears welled in my eyes. I swallowed hard. “No, honey, thank you, but you found it. You should keep it.”
After a few more rounds of trying, he relented. “Okay, I’ll help you find another one.”
I smiled, knowing the odds of finding another one were slimmer than finding the first one. He insisted on carrying the treasure, being careful not to crush it. I made sure to tell every other shell seeker we came across about his discovery. He proudly held out his hand with the sand dollar for everyone to see. My shy little guy even answered the same question again and again for the impressed adults.
“I just found it on top of a pile of shells,” he declared.
As we put on our shoes to go back for breakfast, Eric said, “You can leave those other pieces of sand dollars somewhere. Another person might find them and think they found a great treasure like I did.”
I left them there, thinking about my son’s treasure and the one he was leaving for others to find. Suddenly my shell-seeking desire seemed insignificant. Walking with his sandy hand in mine, I knew that sharing that morning with him was a far greater treasure than any whole sand dollar ever could be.
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