I remember learning long ago that being a "finder" is rare gift, but there are people who can just spot them.
My grandfather was one of those people.
Though he was tall and had good use of only one of his eyes, he could look down in a sea of grass and spot a four leaf clover speedy quick. He'd just bend down and there it'd be, tiny and green quatrefoil, in his work-weathered hands.
Determined to be as lucky as PawPaw was, I spend the better part of a summer break filtering through the front yard. All that time. I found one.
For the longest time, I kept those two lucky clovers in my bible - the one I asked PawPaw to find for me, which took him less than 10 seconds, and the one I spend nearly 2 months looking for. Then, on a day not too long ago, they turned to brownish-green dust in the hands of a curious toddler.
Though now I have neither the clovers, nor my grandfather, I do have happy memories: one particular warm, sunshiny, Spring day... and a long, relaxing summer with only one goal in mind. Lucky me!