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Jar of Sand

Just a jar--a jar filled with golden pebbles sitting on my dark green dresser; that’s all it is made out to be. But just a look at that jar and my heart fills with warmth. The butterflies start turning in my stomach and, suddenly, I’m back on Makenna Beach. I flash back on the slightly warm breeze, pulling my bleached out blonde hair behind my olive shoulders. I remember the sand squishing between my stubby toes, leaving my tracks behind as evidence--as proof. All the pain disappeared; all of the stress and worries vanished. It was simply the sea and me.

The way the sea washed away my footprints would relieve me of my past, as if erasing it. It was the sea’s way of forgiving me for my wrongdoings, giving me a bright, sunny, new beginning--a beginning I could go anywhere with, starting in pure paradise. The smell of the salty water and the sun on my red cheeks were all I needed to get by. With a smile on my face and the ocean reflecting upon my eyes, I found perfection. That feeling, that joy--it all comes back to me with just a glance at that simple jar of sand.

You could call it a jar of memories, a jar of freedom or letting go; even a jar of a new beginning. It’s a reminder that I can get by, that no matter what step I take, it will always lead to the next- just a footprint in the sand. If the ocean won’t ever give up on erasing the past then I shouldn’t either. The jar is a reminder that, at one point, everything in life was perfect. It proves that perfection is indeed possible, and just knowing that becomes enough to get me by. You say it’s just a jar of sand? No, it is so much more than a simple jar of sand.



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