When she was just two almost three, Grace helped Grandpa John In the garden, as happy as can be. Near the carrots, Oh, they weren’t nearly as grown, Grace found a gift She could keep as her very own. She unearthed a marble, buried long ago, by some a child or squirrel long forgotten Its origins unknown. Solid red was the marble and as shiny as if it were new. She carried it carefully into the house And introduced it to all she knew. Often she would carry it from room to room to room. And explain the house to the marble as only a two and a half year old can do. Her other favorite thing to do Was to to pinch it between finger and thumb. Inevitably it would pop out of her grasp and roll to parts unknown. The game continued, all of us helped, in searching for her gift Until one time no one saw which way the marble went It’s in our house somewhere, Of that I am sure. I hope some day it’s found again with a child’s love so pure.
Sweet childhood fun! It’s magic.
This took me right back to childhood, Laurie! Great poem!
Its hard not to love this one- the innocence and purity of childhood, precious memories we often don’t remember.. good job! *pats you on shoulder*
Very, very nice. Innocence and hope – a nice package.
Excellent snapshot of your Granddaughter. I could imagine her very well
The wonder of discovery and the joy of sharing all wrapped up in a personal experience, nice!
This is wonderful, I love the details, and as someone who helped their grandfather with the carrots a long time ago, was particularly touched by that moment, and the final stanza.
Oh, the wonders of a child’s mind. A marble as a treasure, carried everywhere and even introduced to everyone- so sweet. The stories this marble could tell. Love it!