Can what is broken ever be mended?
I mused on this as I played in the sand. I thought of the devastating floods in Australia, and the many homes and towns which will never be the same. I remembered the times in my life where new order emerged out of the chaos of loss.
The beach was littered with broken scallop shells, and each wave delivered some more. As I gathered them up, my impulse was to put the pieces back together again, and make a whole scallop. But in this particular jigsaw, most of the pieces were missing. So I made a new form, out of the broken bits.
Then I made a sandcastle, which had a gash in one side. The perfectionist in me wanted to start again, and try and get it right. It took the comment of a little child to help me see the beauty in imperfection. Mira took one look at the ‘gash’, and said, ‘moon!’ in a tone of wonder.
And so, for all those whose lives have turned to flotsam and jetsam, I offer imperfect images of hope: a moon and a new shape created from broken scallops.