when i was about 5, my most prized possession was a perfect, black konch shell that my dad and i found on the beach after a storm. i loved that shell, took it everywhere with me as a sort of security "blanket." i probably spent hours tracing the spiral with my finger and listening to it's roar.
one day, i took it with me to a special evening church service. being 5, i fell asleep, and when we left my shell got left behind. i was very upset..i think i actually mourned for that shell (kinda sad). then a little while later (could have been weeks..could have been months, i don't remember-i was 5! 10 minutes can feel like a year when you are that age.) my mom and i were cleaning up some things at the church and upon entering the laundry room-there it was! my beautiful shell. :) i was sooo happy. my mom got it down from on top of the shelf where it was resting, i remember crying-i was that happy to have found my shell. i hugged it, held it to my ear to listen to it's roar, and slowly traced it's spiral. when it was time to go, i placed the shell under a table in the laundry room, and left it there...i didn't want to steal from church.

sometimes i wonder what other things/people/opportunities i've left behind, or not picked up because i was needlessly afraid of taking something that wasn't mine.

this is what makes me smile:
free squash. ..."that's right neighborly of ya...neighbor."