She loved the rocks in the cool, small stream, even though she didn’t have much of a reason. She would wander its grassy shore searching for the perfect rock to keep in her bucket. Her eyes scanned the clear water ceaselessly. She needed to fill her bucket.

The sun shined down, making a pretty pebble glimmer in the light. It was lovely, glistening there in the shallow creek bed, so she reached in with her nimble fingers and plucked it up, placing it ever so gently in her bucket. She had her pebble.

The day wore on and the sun’s hot rays beat down, drying her pebble and taking away its shimmer. Dirt crusted in the bottom of her bucket coated her once pretty pebble, making it lose its luster. She looked in her bucket and was in shock. Glancing around frantically, a sparkle caught her eye. There, nestled in between a few other rocks was a smooth stone. It would be hers.

She tipped her bucket upside down and let the old pebble slip out and plunk back into the creek.

Her hand reached into the rushing water to pick up her new stone. It looked so perfect and lovely. But when she touched it, algae and slime covered her fingers. It was not as beautiful as it had seemed.

So with that, she let the stone slip from her grasp. After all, stones and pebbles didn’t matter to a girl who would climb mountains.