By Ronnie Michel

After cleaning as much of the aftermath of Hurricane Ida, I accepted an invitation to stay at the house of my daughter’s friend in Alabama. I babysat five granddaughters while my daughters worked remotely.

Yes, I felt guilty for not being home, but reminded myself there will still be much to do when I return – like babysitting until school and daycare resumes.

One day we took a break and went to the beach where my granddaughters began to gather seashells. They carefully searched for what they consider to be the perfect shells and brought their treasures to me for safekeeping.

I looked at the shells they deemed worthy of their evacuation beach souvenirs. Such diversity! Among the varied-colored shells were shells tinier than a thumbnail to almost palm-sized, broken pieces of large shells and those missing a tiny part, and shells with a hole and whole shells. In their hearts and minds, the imperfect are as treasured as the flawless.

They found something to celebrate in every shell.

I sat next to their collection and realized their lives will be filled with experiences as varied as their shell collection. May they always appreciate and search for the beauty in each.