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, did he 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?
Author unknown
