Sydney’s Rocks

Everywhere Sydney went as a child, she would pick up rocks and put them in her pocket. It didn’t matter what kind—dirt-covered rocks, clean ones, ordinary stones, or shiny pebbles—she simply liked them. Each rock, no matter how small or plain, held her attention, and she would gather them without hesitation.

Her parents, amused but patient, would often find these rocks long after the walks were over—tucked into her pockets, hidden under the couch cushions, or stashed away in the corners of drawers. They became familiar sights in the house, these little stones that had been collected over the years.

Though they were just ordinary rocks, their presence carried a quiet lesson. It wasn’t the perfection of the rock that made it special, but the act of noticing and cherishing what others might overlook. Over time, the house became a testament to the simple value of things—sometimes it’s not the grand or the glamorous that matter most, but the small, everyday moments that carry meaning.