My grandfather was a man of few words. Whenever we grandkids visited, he never called out a greeting or yelled for us to come join him in the garden.
Instead, he would silently crook his finger from across the yard, and we would know he wanted to give us something.
Usually it was a piece of bubblegum from a paper bag he kept in the garage.
But sometimes it was an odd little treasure he had just dug up in his vegetable garden. It might be a marble or a piece of an old teaset.
During this time of COVID lockdown, it can be hard to see the joy that still exists in the world. But this week, as I was walking toward my back gate, I found a marble.
A shiny blue and white marble glinting in the sun.
A small piece of serendipity that suddenly reminded me of my grandfather and his long-ago garden treasures.
I have lived in this house for over 20 years. Where did that marble suddenly come from?
Maybe it was always there.
Maybe I just needed to see it now.
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