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.