Growing up, my grandma always made sure I felt loved and cherished. Despite having older brothers, she reminded me every day that I was special. And on my birthday, she had a tradition of giving me a little plastic sheep. At first, I didn’t understand the meaning behind this strange gift, but little did I know, these sheep held a secret that would change my life.
As time went on, my beloved grandma grew older, and we all knew that her time on earth was coming to an end. When she passed away, I was devastated. But my mother consoled me, saying that Grandma would live on in me. You see, she named me after Grandma Clementine because she knew that I was not only a gift to my parents but also a gift to her.
On my twentieth birthday, my mom handed me a little box with yet another plastic sheep. She explained that this was the last one Grandma had given her before she passed away. Tears filled my eyes as I held the sheep tightly. I excused myself from the birthday celebration and retreated to my room.
There, I carefully placed the new sheep on a shelf above my bed, joining the others. It was a comfort to have them there, even though I used to question why my grandmother would gift me these plastic creatures year after year. Little did I know that there was more to these sheep than met the eye.
In the midst of my sadness, my older brother Sheldon entered my room and asked if I had figured it out yet. Confused, I shook my head. With a knowing smile, he told me to look underneath the sheep. And there it was—a message. Each sheep had a printed message of love, followed by a number. Another number was hidden beneath one of the legs, indicating the order of the sheep.
I still couldn’t quite comprehend what it all meant, so I asked Sheldon for further explanation. He encouraged me to check out the last sheep and write down the numbers in order. Curiosity piqued, I followed his advice.
To my astonishment, a bank account number was revealed when I arranged the numbers according to the years my grandmother had gifted me the sheep. My grandmother had set up a bank account for me at birth, depositing money every year. Over $120,000 awaited me.
The following day, I rushed to the bank my grandmother had dealt with. Not only did I discover the substantial amount of money she had saved for me, but I also found out that she had a safety deposit box in my name. The bank consultant granted me access, and inside was a handwritten letter from my dear grandmother.
Through tears of joy and gratitude, I read her heartfelt words. Grandma had devised this secret plan to ensure my future was secure. She knew that if she had left me the money traditionally, it may have been taken away. She wanted nothing more than for me to be truly set for life.
Armed with her letter, a bouquet of flowers, and a flask of tea, I made my way to Grandma’s final resting place. The setting sun bathed the cemetery in a soft, comforting glow. As I placed the flowers on her grave, I poured her a cup of tea, just as she always liked it—with two spoons of sugar.
Sitting beside her, I sipped my own cup of tea and felt her presence. I thanked her for her undying love and for opening the door to my dream college with her generous gift. She had loved me more than anyone else, and I promised to make her proud.
I stayed there until Grandma’s cup of tea grew cold, sharing my deepest thoughts and feelings with her. Although she was physically gone, her love and spirit remained with me.
