Just back from school, my princess walked straight into my room.
On her trek back home, she had picked some pebbles for me, but I was still half asleep. Carefully, she dropped them by the laptop and left. Noiselessly.
One time some months ago, her brother walked into my room and saw the eclectic collection of stones by the window pane.
"Grandpa, what are you using these stones for?"
“Nothing.”
Unsatisfied with my “nothing” response, he continued his query.
"Then why do you have lots of them here?"
"I just like them. See their many beautiful shapes, sizes, textures, and colors?"
Since then, brother and sister never forgot to bring me their “stumbled upon” pick of pebbles. I kept a few while getting rid of the others.
A good friend once read my story about my new-interest and replied, wondering if I’d gone nuts upstairs. But my grandkids never questioned my odd hobby.
Yesterday, her brother deposited another sizeable chunk into my growing collection.
"See Grandpa, see how it shines in the light." True, the stocky piece of rough igneous rock was sparkling with tiny iridescent lights."
I throw some away. I collect some more. This one is for keeping.
Not yet done, my sweet angel was soon back. She met me sitting on the bed. Her sweet voice chirped in.
"Grandpa, please give me your rainbow pen."
"It is not here. It is with your grandma."
"See it there, it is on your table."
"O really? I'm sorry, I didn't know it was there."
"Go and pick it now. But what do you need it for?”
"I want to trace something."
"Are you sure you won't spoil it"
"Yes."
"Are you sure, you won't spoil it."
"Yes"
"OK, take it now."
Scampering up the chair, she stretched her hand and picked up my 6-in-1 colored pen.
She didn't forget her, "Grandpa, thank you", as she sauntered away.
5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup runs over.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
All the days of my life;
And I will dwell in the house of the LORD
Forever.
Psalms 23:5–6
A few minutes later, I picked up the pen from the floor of the sitting room.
Sometimes, the joy you’re seeking after is right by your side
What more can I ask for?
And you, what are you asking for?
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