Chester was supposed to be a pocket watch. When I was a little girl, I’d seen one in a store and it was all I wanted in the whole world. So I saved and saved and saved. My parents, having the best intentions, were teaching me that hard work pays off. Stacks of quarters and dimes were my reward for chores around the house. Finally, the day had come and I had saved enough; but, my parents felt that a pocket watch was not an appropriate thing for a 9 year old girl to carry around.
Rather than allow me to sulk, they took me for a walk down the street to Steve’s Pet Store. We’d had so many goldfish and I could not be convinced that we needed more. They had lost their appeal. For a new pet, my parents had one rule: No fur. My dad was allergic to it. That didn’t leave very many options. This was extremely discouraging.
After some wandering and nearly conceding to the fact that fish were the only pet I could have, Steve ushered us to the very back: the reptile room. There, in a wee little tank was a wee little turtle the size of a quarter. We were all smitten. That was the day I met my best friend. 21 years later, we have grown together and learned so much about each other.
When I am feeling lonely or sad, I need only to walk over to her tank and listen to the sound of her bump, bump, bumping around to know that I am never alone. She is always happy to see me. It really is a lucky thing that, sometimes, we get just what we need instead of what we think we want.