As I walk along in life, traveling a many a place. I gather pebbles, I collect them it is safe to say.

I walk along as a child and I pick up small pebbles and place them in �my pocket. �When I get home I take these pebbles out of my pocket and place them in a box under my bed.

As I grow, so does the number of boxes under my bed. Sometimes I take out my boxes and I take out each pebble. One by one I look at them. Plain grey stones, still covered in the mud of the grund that I found them in. Smooth shiny stones, looking as if they had never touched the ground, let alone come from it. All sorts of colors. Red, black, white, even a few with purples, blues, and yellows. All sorts of sizes. Small, medium, and even a couple too large to fit in a box, so they sit displayed n a shelf on my wall.

My freinds who know about my boxes of pebbles are mixed in their thinking of them. Some think they are cool and that I should make some kinda display to put them all out. I tell them one day I'll figure out just how they need to be put out for everyone to enjoy, but for now, I like my boxes tucked safely under my bed. some friends think I'm totally nuts!

As my life goes on, and I grow older yet. My old habit of stopping to pick up pebbles continues. Still they are not pebbles of any value, not to anyone else but me that is. I travel around the world, seeing so many wonderous places, and in each one, I stop and gather a pebble, or two, or ten, lol. Still I keep them tucked away in boxes, still not knowing exactly what to do with them, but still I pick them up, tuck them safely in my pocket until I get home, and store them safely in their box. Unless of course it is too big, and they sit alongside my other too large for my boxes stones.

Even thru life, friends who know me well, will walk up to me, ask me to hold out my hand, and place in it a lovely stone, sometimes a fancy stone, sometimes just a simple pebble they have picked up along the way, to add it to my boxes to blend in with all of mine.

Now I am too old to travel, and cannot walk about as once I could, but still I enjoy now and again to wander into my yard, where look, I am graced with yet another pebble, to pick up and put in my pocket, to add it to my box.

One day a thought strikes me, and I go underneath my bed, and all the other places my boxes have come to rest. I take all my boxes, and head out into the yard.

I look about the yard, and find the perfect place, and start to open each box one by one, and dump them out upon the ground. I sit, I dump, I sort, I move them about. For hours, for days, maybe even a week or more. I dump out my boxes upon the ground. I plant plants amoung them. Place a fountain and a bench.

One of my friends stops by when I am finally done, and asks me, where I got the beautiful garden. I tell I have gathered this garden all my life, stored in boxes under my bed. I picked up each pebble and placed it in my pocket. Friends and loved ones have helped me with my garden, with pebbles they have shared with me.

Now, I share my pebbles with the world. A beautiful garden full of pebbles.

That is beautiful...so touching!! *wipes away tears*