Tuesday, November 16, 2010


The very first time I saw a sand dollar, it was in the living room of a girl I had just met in Marquette, Michigan.  Growing up in Michigan, and having travelled very little at that point in my life, I had no idea how fragile it was.  I picked it up to look at it closer, and of course, it broke in pieces in my hands.

I felt terrible.  Here was this girl in Michigan who had a sand dollar on display in her home and I had come in and broken it immediately.  I apologized to her profusely and she insisted that it was no big deal, but I walked away from that experience feeling like I had made the world a little less beautiful.

Now I've travelled more.  I've been to beaches where the sand dollars were plentiful lying in a riverbed when the tide had gone out.  And I realize that she probably meant what she said.  It probably wasn't a big deal to her to lose that sand dollar because she had seen them many times before and knew that she would be able to replace it at some point if she wanted.

It's all in one's perspective.

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