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Behold the amazing oyster shell! Scientists identify them as mostly calcium carbonate and add lists of various impurities which might be included. In my opinion, they sell the oyster’s vacated home short. I think oyster shells are simply magical. When I was a child, oyster shells were everywhere. While com­ mercial uses abounded, we used them on a more personal level. We employed them for paving and playing and anything else we could think of. Daddy would purchase a sack of oysters at the dock from the oystermen, the only way we could afford the delicacy occa­ sionally. He would shuck them in the back yard. The tasty oys­ ters were eaten, usually in Mama’s yummy oyster dressing. The resulting shells never, ever went to waste. They would be washed down with the hose and put to work. My uncle’s home had a driveway which ran alongside his shot­ gun house. It was “paved” with oyster shells. The weight of vehicles moving over the shells would eventually crush them and they would have to be replenished. No problem. My grandmother used them in the bottom of her flowerpots to improve drainage. I always loved the way time in the rich potting soil shaded the shells and highlighted the irregulari­ ties of them. Over the years, I saw adults use them as impromptu ashtrays (I know, not good around kids, but who knew back then?). Bar­ becue masters used them as rests to hold their utensils at the grill. Daddy often used them to hold screws or nails in his work­ shop. He would also use them as wedges, slipping one or more into place to level or block an item of furniture or equipment while he worked. Under our raised house, the ground was covered with washed oyster shells. When my sisters and I played under there, we knew we might get scratches and nicks from the edges, but we wouldn’t get muddy. And our “playroom” came equipped with an array of oyster shell toys. Balanced on their rounded side with the open face up, they became dishes for tea parties, swimming pools for elves and boats for little dolls, among other possibilities. We often floated tiny wildflowers in them to dress up our “playhouse.” Turned open side down, they formed pathways through imag­ inary lands or steppingstones across raging makebelieve rivers. Stacked and nested, they became building blocks for fairytale castle towers and walls for toy cowboy forts. Change the configuration to change the playtime scenario, and off we went with the next adventure. We mixed fingerpaint in them, used them to make lacy lines and ridges in modeling clay. Traced on paper, the outlines formed the bodies of fantastical creatures existing only in our minds. The possibilities for our shells knew no limits. Nowadays, oyster shells have made another magical shift, this time into works of art. Some get painted in vibrant colors. Oth­ ers find their artistry created with glue and lace, beads, or glit­ ter. They may frame small photos or miniature paintings. Artists paint pictures of them on canvas. Tourists carry them home to remember their southern vaca­ tions. I’ll bet you could find oyster shell souvenirs in every state of the union and probably most countries of the world. I celebrate the possibilities of Over the decades the lowly oys­ ter shell evolved into something more than a calcium carbon­ ate waste product. Like a butterfly, it has emerged into beauty! © 2022 Mary Beth Magee Author/speaker Mary Beth Magee writes cozy Christian fic­ tion, poetry, children’s books, and nonfiction. For more on her writing and training sessions, visit her website at www.LOL4.net . 14 SOUTHERN SENIOR MAGAZINE | Spring 2022 By Mary Beth Magee www.LOL4.net Oyster Shell Metamorphosis