Sand Dollar

On my bedside bookshelf is a small black frame. There is no picture in it, only a sand dollar. It is a creamy color, having been bleached by the southern sun for a while before it ended up in my room in Kentucky. In the center is a design like a star that reminds me a bit of the center of an apple. It is difficult to believe that this round white disc is the skeleton of a sea creature that burrowed in the shores of the Carribbean Ocean. As I look at it, I briefly try to imagine a world where human skeletons are displayed as a keep-sakes from a pleasant vacation. Horrific. Sand dollars, when they are alive, are not very nice to look at. They appear slimy and are often the brown and black color of a leech. But when they die, the part that lasts is so lovely that even the dumb tourists take notice and desire them as souvenirs.

All of this reminds me of a bigger plan. I started out with a soul a repulsive as a leech. And through a death, my soul is gradually being made into something beautiful.