The Shell Hunter

One summer morning my wife and I drove to an Ocean Beach in Bridgehampton to watch the waves breaking on the shore and enjoy a few self-reflective moments. We parked at the end of the road where we would have the best vantage point without leaving our car. A few minutes after we arrived, a little girl—about three or four years old—and her mother walked up from the beach towards us. She was carrying a white plastic pail. She stopped when she got about five feet from our car, stared at us intently, and gave a tentative smile. We smiled back and waved hello. 

She slowly approached our car, walked around it and reappeared at my window, which I rolled down in anticipation of what… I'm not sure. She asked if we were going "shell hunting."  I replied, "Not today," and asked her if she had. She tilted her pail so we could see that it was full of shells of assorted shapes and sizes. I said, " Those shells are beautiful." She gave us a big smile and ran towards her mother who was watching and waiting several feet away. We returned our attention to the waves.

A few minutes later there was a slight tapping on my window. Surprised, I looked down to see the little girl standing there and shyly staring up at me. I opened my window and said, “Hello.” She reached up and handed me two of the shells she had collected. I said, "How beautiful! Are these for us to keep?" She said, "Yes."

Before I could thank her, she ran to her mother, who was laughing and gave her daughter two thumbs up. Then they both high-fived each other before getting into their car and driving off. My wife and I laughed and were happy in the moment.