I remember going to the beach 
And being shown how to fill up buckets,
The sand wet and gritty in my smooth little hand.
I remember being taught how to pack the sand,
How to tap the bucket so it would come out just right.
How to carve in shapes and dig a little moat.
I remember our footprints, like a giant’s, around our little castle,
But soon enough it began to crumble, not from our shaking the earth,
But instead from the tide that had snuck up behind us.
I watched as our castle, footprints, and work were washed away.
I remember crying, because it was gone like it was never there at all.
But one thing I learned is that the beach will never be the same,
That those grains of sand we moved, 
Moved in a way that they wouldn’t have been if they were left alone.
That beach will forever be a little different, even if it looks untouched. 
And I remember when I looked down the beach, 
I saw that other families were building sandcastles too,
Because they saw how much fun we were having.
That beach will never be the same, 
And every beach those kids go to, they will build sandcastles there too,
And those tiny, lumpy castles will inspire others.
One day, many of those people will teach their children too.
And change all the beaches they travel to, even if it’s just a little bit. 
Because of the one we built together.

One thought on “Sandcastles

  1. Paula Tibert says:

    Thanks for this memory and reminder, that I too, have made a difference, even just in making sand castles.  I hope I can inspire more by the fun I have in the ordinary – – lots for which to be grateful. 🙂


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