Grains of Sand

When we go to the beach, after a couple of hours I start becoming philosophical. The long stretch of sand, the pounding waves of the sea, brings me in a sort of hypnotic trance. But these are my best moments for uninterrupted thinking so I do just that. I pick up a hand of sand, let it flow through my fingers. Suppose every person on this planet represents 1 grain of sand? My eyes look at the endless beach. That would be a lot of people.

Are we so unimportant to the universe? Just a grain of sand among the zillions? Sometimes we feel like that. Every morning millions trot off to work, or stay at home to do all the mundane things stay-at-home people do.Our lives won't be published in the weekly magazines; we don't live glamorous lives. We don't go to black-tie parties; having a barbecue in the garden is more like it. And do we really have something to say to the world? Not really, and we never even thought about it. And if we had, would anyone listen? No, because we are nobody's we only give our opinion sitting on the couch, watching the news and sport. Perhaps we give our opinions to people at work, or to the check-out lady at the supermarket. But we think we have nothing to say, and if we do we think it's not important, nobody is interested anyway. We are grains of sand on the endless beach, one pretty much the same as the other.

But are we? The most interesting stories I have heard in my life, came from ordinary people, not movie-stars.You might think you have no story to tell, but most certainly you have.You were born somewhere, you spent your childhood somewhere, you live somewhere. You have a history, a complete story, no matter how old or young you are. And you are still living this interesting story, till the day you leave this earth. In your life you encounter other people, who also have their "stories". Your parents, grandparents and friends have their own stories.

Thinking about technology these days I realized that my son, who is 21 grew up with computers, microwaves, remote controls and color TV. And I remembered the days we had to live without all these comforts which make our lives so nice. Then I remembered my grandparents, who lived in a small house, and were poor. So I started scribbling down the stories I heard from various members of the family, how life was then. And my own thoughts and experiences. It is not a diary, more a journal, and for everybody to read. But mainly for the generations to come, when I'm gone. To read how things were in the past, now my present.
It is a story about ordinary people, who lived ordinary lives. Who had their joys and sorrows. But I realized quickly that these stories were worth preserving.
As do yours, and your past.

So next time you travel to work in the subway, bus, are driving on the highway etc. think of these fellow-grains of sand as stories, full of color, rich in content. You are important in this world, and without you this place would have had many stories less! Many opinions would have been lost without you, many things would not have happened without you. Grains of sand? No, we are all important.