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 have 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.

~whenever I see oysters, it will remind me of this poem and the lesson behind.