there once was an oyster whose story i’ll tell,
who found that some sand had worked under his shell.
just one little grain but it gave him a pain,
for oysters have feelings that are very plain.
now did he berate this working of fate,
that left him in such a deplorable state?
did he curse the government, call for an election,
and say that the sea should have some protection?
no! he said to himself as he sat on the shelf,
“since i cannot remove it, i think i’ll improve it.”
well, years passed by, as years always do,
till he came to his destiny, oyster stew!
but the small grain of sand that bothered him so
was a beautiful pearl all richly aglow.
now this tale has a moral, for isn’t it grand,
what an oyster can do with a small grain of sand?
and what couldn’t we do if we’d only begin
with all of the things that get under our skin?
