the oyster

there once was an oyster whose story i tell,
who found that some sand
had got into his shell.
it was only a grain,
but it gave him great pain.
for oysters have feelings
although they're so plain.

now, he did berate
the harsh workings of fate
that had brought him
to such a deplorable state?
did he curse at the government,
cry for election,
and claim that the sea should
have given him protection?

no--he said to himself
as he lay on a shell,
since i cannot remove it,
i shall try to improve it.
now the years have rolled around,
as the years always do,
and he came to his ultimate
destiny-stew.

and the small grain of sand
that had bothered him so
was a beautiful pearl
all richly aglow.
now the tale has a moral;
for isn't it grand
what an oyster can do
with a morsel of sand?

what couldn't we do
if we'd only begin
with some of the things
that get under our skin.

-- anonymous