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Dear Caelan,
Every animal, every plant, everything that is alive has its own special story. No two living things have the same story, because no two living things have the same experiences during life. Every bird has its own special memories of places seen from the air and tasty seeds found on the ground. Every person here today has different memories and a different viewpoint. All living things are individuals, and each living thing we encounter has its own lesson to teach us. Recently, a friend of mine learned a valuable lesson that I want to share with you today.
My friend's name is Horace, and he lives near Wrightsville Beach, not in a house or in an apartment or on a boat, as you might think, but in a seashell. You see, Horace is a hermit crab.
Hermit crabs live in shells that other sea creatures have outgrown and left lying around on the ocean floor, and when a hermit crab outgrows the shell he's living in, he has to search around in the sand and the waves until he finds another shell that's big enough for him to live in. My story is about what happened to my friend Horace when he lost his shell a few months ago.
Horace was a young crab, and he was growing very fast. Every week, his shell, his home, seemed smaller and smaller. Every week, as Horace grew, the shell slipped up on his back until one night, while Horace was asleep, a wave just swept the shell completely off of him. When Horace woke up, his home was gone.
He didn't notice right away. First he yawned, and then he stretched, as he did every morning, but this morning when he stretched, he seemed to feel much lighter. He reached a claw around his back and felt ... nothing! His home was gone, and Horace was very frightened. He said, "I don't know what to do," very loudly, and then he became more frightened, because some other sea creature, maybe one that would eat a hermit crab if he caught him without his shell, might have heard him. And then he began to cry, very quietly. "I can't look for food, and I can't go to see my friends. I can't explore the ocean and I can't play in the sand. Without my home, I can't do anything or go anywhere. I guess I'll have to just stand here and cry."
And that's just what Horace did. He crossed his claws on his chest and just stood there and pouted, sniffling a little and feeling very scared and hungry and cold.
After awhile, a shark swam by and noticed Horace. "Well," said the shark, "you're a strange little fellow, just standing there. It isn't good for you to be still for so long, you know. Moving around puts fresh water in your gills, and that's what keeps us sea creatures alive."
"I'm not strange," said Horace, "and I wish I was a little fellow, because then I wouldn't have lost my shell. A hermit crab can't move around or do anything without having his house on his back, so I'll just stand here."
"Suit yourself," said the shark, "but don't forget what I told you about moving around. You might as well be nowhere at all as to be in one place for too long. Now, I have to leave and get some fresh water in my gills." The shark then swam away, leaving Horace just standing there with his claws folded on his chest, getting hungrier and sadder every passing minute.
Then an eel who lived in the neighborhood saw Horace and came over for a chat. The eel curled and wriggled and rippled through the water. He made movement look like so much fun that Horace grew even sadder.
"How can you just s-s-s-stand there when there's all this great water and s-s-s-sand to play in?", hissed the eel. "Are your parents making you s-s-s-stand still like that to punish you for something? What did you do? Wouldn't you like to come with me and see what's behind that s-s-s-sandbar over there?" At the end of each of these questions, the eel curled his body into the shape of a question mark.
"No one's punishing me," answered Horace, "and I wish you'd stop wriggling and snaking around like that. You're making me nervous."
"Why should I stop moving when moving is s-s-s-so much fun?", the eel asked, forming himself into another question mark. "There's a whole ocean out here to play in, and I want to wriggle my way through all of it! If you don't move around and find new things to s-s-s-see and do, you'll miss out on all the fun in life!"
Horace watched the eel wriggle around him, and it did look like a lot of fun, and he was a little curious about what might be on the other side of that sandbar, but he didn't want to admit it to the eel. He just stood there with his claws crossed in front of him.
"Well," said the eel, "if you want to stand there and wait for the waves to cover you with s-s-s-sand, go ahead, but don't forget what I told you about moving around. There's a whole ocean out here to play in!" With that, the eel swam away, twisting and wriggling and hissing happily to himself.
A few minutes later, the sand in front of Horace began to move. "That's it," Horace thought, remaining very still. "Now I'm so hungry that I'm starting to see things." The movement in the sand was real, though. It was a very old sea turtle who had been asleep in the sand and was now slowly raising himself up for a swim.
"What's this?", the turtle said, adjusting his spectacles. "Now this is an odd and depressing sight ... a statue of a hermit crab without any clothes on." The turtle, you see, thought of his shell as clothing.
"I'm not a statue," said Horace, startling the turtle. "I'm just a hermit crab who wants to stand here and be left alone. Why don't you go back to sleep or go away?"
The old turtle thought that he deserved better treatment than Horace was giving him, but he could tell that something was wrong, and he decided to stay and try to help. "Hermit crabs don't usually just stand in one place, and sensible, decent creatures wear their shells when they're out in public. Oysters generally stay in one place, and so do clams, but not hermit crabs. And, if I might add, oysters and clams keep their shells on for all occasions."
"I don't care about old oysters and clams," Horace rudely exclaimed, "and I don't care about old turtles, either! Why can't you just leave me alone and let me do what I want?"
"Judging by the tone of your voice, which is not a happy one, and from what I've come to know about hermit crabs over the years, I'd say that you're not really doing what you want right now," the turtle said. "I think that what you really want to be doing right now is moving around and learning what there is to be learned about the creatures you share this ocean with. Not everyone is going to come to you for conversation, as I've done. You have to move around to meet your neighbors and learn from them."
"I don't want to learn anything from my neighbors," said Horace, though he had always enjoyed meeting and talking with different creatures. The turtle sighed, and shrugged, and adjusted his spectacles once more. "Do whatever you want, but don't forget what I told you about moving around. You have to move around to meet your neighbors and learn from them." With that final word, the old turtle turned and swam slowly away.
Horace stood there, getting hungrier and colder and sadder, and he thought about what the shark, the eel and the turtle had said. He began to wonder if there was more to life than having a shell. After carefully looking around to make sure he was alone, Horace began to move. First he took a tiny step to the left. Then he took a tiny step to the right. Then two steps to the left. Horace was moving again, and it felt great. Just a few steps away, he found a sea plant that tasted better than anything he'd ever eaten. He jumped, just to let the current take him where it wanted. Then he began to explore the sandbar he'd been wondering about. He climbed up one side and looked to see what was on the other.
What he saw made him very happy. What was on the other side of the sandbar was a roomy, beautiful seashell. As quickly as he could, Horace ran down the side of the sandbar and tried on the shell. It was more comfortable than his old one had ever been.
Horace learned a valuable lesson that day. He learned that by moving around, always looking for fun and knowledge and new friends, he could make the entire ocean his home.
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