Almost buried treasure

Ally’s little soggy hands clutched the yellow flashlight swinging it back and forth on the concrete path. To hold our loot, I came armed with a large stained white pail dangling from my left arm.  Her four year old figure shivered from the cold as we desperately searched for signs of anything foreign on the ground surrounding us. As we stood there, I looked straight ahead trying to see my hand directly in front of my face. Nothing.  It was complete darkness all around us.  Only two illuminations were to be seen in what else was considered a black sheet covering the night.  One ray of light came from the corner of the street and the other beam leading back to the flash light grasped tightly between my little sister’s hands. Our eyes moved rapidly scanning the concrete while we paced back and forth. I took a deep breath in; my chest expanding. The cold air almost pierced my throat as I inhaled.  I recognized the smell of mud and the freshly cut grass that lingered in the air. 

My sister and I would have been completely silent if it had not been for the sound of water cracking underneath our feet.  As we disrupted each and every puddle, a warm sensation rushed over our little bare feet. The water ran across our feet like a running stream. Underneath the mud felt extremely soft as it squished between our toes with every step we took, as if we were walking on little mounds of pudding. The rain that continued to come down lightly had now become just a vague warm mist. With each droplet that continued to fall, our clothing began to feel like we were carrying heavy baggage on our shoulders.  It was imperative we find what we were looking for.  Our future depended on it.  Just then out of the corner of my eye, I saw a glimmer of hope. There all over the ground lie our valued treasures. I scanned the perimeter, making sure no one threatened our fortune.  I rushed to grab the money; as fast as I could blink our treasure would disappear.  Ally then spotted another one.  We had stumbled onto a gold mine. She reached for her coin almost dropping the only source of light we had into the water.  We still had no luck. Again, our plunder had vanished into thin air.  I grabbed for one.  I had it!  Almost.  The gold slipped right through my fingers, but not before my skin had begun to crawl. I glanced down to pick up the treasure again.  There was nothing where my precious jewel had landed just seconds earlier.  The ground must have swallowed it whole!  I couldn’t believe my eyes. Our victory looked hopeless.

Ally and I began to feel defeated and scared that our payment would never come. Our future was in jeopardy.  A prize we had dedicated much of our time and energy to seemed to be out of reach.  Gone.  I felt so vulnerable at that very moment in time.  However, just as I was ready to give up, I heard a high pitched shriek coming from my sister’s direction. As Ally patrolled the ground with light, we just smiled.  There in the glow we saw the ground littered with money.  This time we worked much faster and worked together.  I placed my bucket on the ground so I could dig into the treasure with both hands. Ally and I were not just soaking wet but also covered in filth.  With each jewel we tossed into the pail we could in vision our reward getting closer and closer. This fortune we had been collecting was absolutely meaningless to us, but to others these jewels meant the world. It meant a means to a whole other fortune.  To my sister and me, this was just a job.  Merely a task we had to complete to get us one step closer to our real treasure. We worked together diligently, tossing one and then another until the bucket was half full. The pail was getting so heavy; we could barely lift it up. We decided to call it quits.  We were in desperate need of rest along with a set of clean, dry clothes.  We agreed to exchange the fortune first thing in the morning. 

The following morning could not have come soon enough.  Exhausted, Ally and I headed uptown to the local store to trade our findings.  With a radiant glow, we proudly handed over the valued treasure. We sat quietly on the edge of our cold metal chairs as Grandpa counted out each and every piece.  I could vaguely hear him counting underneath his breath.  198… 199…200.  200!  As he said that number my heart jumped.  That was just enough!  Ally and I could hardly contain our excitement.  Grandpa took his two hundred pieces and in our tiny palms placed ten dollars in each of our youthful hands.  Twenty dollars was exactly what we needed to buy our precious “The Littlest Pet Shop” store! 

We walked triumphantly into Wal-Mart. We knew exactly where our treasure rested. I stepped on my tip-toes and grabbed the huge box filled with our very own pet store.  We marched up to the counter and slapped down our money victoriously.  Now we had our pet shop and Grandpa had all the worms he needed for his fishermen.  Our goal had been achieved.    Or so we thought.

At the time we believed our little pet shop was the true treasure.  But we were mistaken.  The real treasure was right beside me the whole time.  It has taken me years to figure out why this cold wet night is embedded in my mind.  That bucket of worms was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.  It was the first of many times my sister and I would work side by side.  We had many adventures, catching tinker bell (fireflies), making dandelion bracelets, and hunting for mushrooms.  None of these things still exist and yet our sisterly bond remains.   As adults we now have a relationship that is more valuable than any bucket of worms. 

Recently, I saw that very pet shop again at my mother’s house.  My Daughter, Tybee had sat down to play with it.  Oblivious to just how much effort and time it took to get this toy fifteen years ago or the relationship that was made that day. She just played and played treating it like all the other toys surrounding her.

Today Tybee is outside in her sprinkler running around carelessly.  I am watching her from the porch with her baby brother in my lap.  All of a sudden she stops dead in her tracks.  The water is still flying all over the yard and landscape.  She stands still.  Tybee spotted the very same treasure crossing her concrete path as Ally and I did years ago.  As she was frozen in time, I caught myself lost in thought. I wondered.  Will she pick up that slimy worm to start her very own treasure hunt?  Or will she realize on her own that her most valuable treasure was the little worm sitting on my lap?