It was only a shell…a triton… And it held magic for a deaf girl of eight. Held to her ears, she could hear the sea, The rolling roar of waves on the shore, The ebb and flow of tide, Pebbles on silver sand. Seagulls reeling and swooping. The salt spray and soft sunset on wet sand. I have a deaf grandmother soft, gentle, radiant, Blue eyes alight with sparkling laughter, Rosy cheeks and a ready smile. Her eyes so full of love of life, So eager to explore And show a deaf girl of eight Her world of magic on a warm, sunlit verandah And a triton in her hand. “Look! Listen! Hear the sea, Sandra, It’s in the shell!” And the deaf girl held the shell in wonder, Grandmother and grandchild, together in wonder. A special memory locked in time, Indelibly etched in my mind.