Once upon a time, a mother took her daughter to the sea. She strolled up and down the shores, admiring how the waves kissed the beach, returning again and again even after the shore would shove the determined tide away. The girl found a rock to sit on and watch the endless conflict of the sea and shore. Later, her mother appeared, kissing her head, and told her they must leave. Hand in hand they strolled away, promising to come back another day.

A few years later, the girl and her mother returned. She found her rock and watched the lover’s quarrel begin. The longer she observed she could not believe that the sea loved the shore, more that the sea hated the shore. The waves would slap the beaches, and carry away the sand. Even the rock she sat on had changed, the edges wore away. She hated the sea for harassing the shore. Sometime later, her mother yelled to get her attention. The mother told her to go to the car, that she had work to be do, and her childish games needed to come to an end. The girl nodded her head as to agree and began to walk to the car. She turned to have one last glimpse of the sea, and felt bad for the rock, as she too was being eroded away.

Thirty years for that day, the grown girl took her children to the sea. They laughed and danced in the loving embrace of the sea. As time went on, the children went their separate ways; one to make a sandcastle, another to the rock she had claimed as her own. The young boy tried climbing onto the boulder that had been now grinded down on every side to a smooth finish. She went over to the boy and yelled at him to stay away from rock, the climb was to steep, he would surely hurt himself. The boy’s eyes welled up with tears. She looked into her child’s face and saw a reflection of herself. She wiped away his tears and then took the boy’s hand and walked away. As the mother walked away, little boy in hand, she began to wonder when she became the sea instead of the rock.