The weight of disappointment sat heavy on her shoulders as we drove through the morning storm. With the rain blowing sideways and lightning bolting to the ground on the horizon ahead, I kept my eyes focused while half expecting a tornado to pull up beside us.  It seemed pointless now to have left before even enjoying our morning coffee.  For over a year she'd dreamt of the day when she could feel the sand between her toes, and the waves tickle her feet.  She had heard the stories and seen the pictures of the treasures found along a particular stretch of coast, and oh how she yearned to find some of those treasures for herself.  Today was the day, or rather, was supposed to be, but lightning and beaches are a deadly combination.  So much for beachcombing.  The closer we drove the more intense the storm became.  "Why?" she thought.  The depression she struggled with was trying to convince her this was just another jab from life; looking down on her, laughing at her expense and teasing with yet another hope so close then having it wash away.  Not sure if she'd get back to this place she had for so long waited to arrive at, a tear welled in her eyes.  "Let's just turn around- this is pointless" was the phrase whispered in her sighs.  My effort to reassure her was only a cause for annoyance.   I could see a break in the clouds out of the driver's side window and that was where we were ultimately headed, but even I was growing less optimistic.  Then, as we neared our destination, the rain stopped.  Still not convinced it'd be worth it, we parked expecting to have only a few minutes before the next band swooped in.  As we approached the access point, there atop a post sat a little round seabiscuit.  Even if we found nothing else, someone had gifted us the coveted seabiscuit.  It was one of the prime treasures she had hoped to find.  It felt like a sign of hope.  Walking down the sandy path between the dunes, we crested the top where I could then hear the melodious roar of waves crashing.  Millions of little dots scattered above the shoreline with only a couple of other beachcombers in sight.  I thanked God for this moment that I'd secretly been praying for all rainy morning long.  The gloom was parting and the sun bashfully hid behind the last lingering clouds.  Excitement and anticipation slowly seeped out in tandem with the sunlight.  We had already found some shells, and a few more seabiscuits.  I looked up.  "This is one of my favorite moments" I thought.  Quickly, I grabbed her phone to take a picture before the moment disappeared.  I hadn't felt that free in a long time and I suspect neither had she.  The rays of light streaming down hope and perseverance as the dark clouds abated.  As an adult persistently plagued by responsibilities it is easy to lose the ability to experience childlike wonderment.  Yet today, like a child's first trip to the beach, finding all sorts of new and interesting things, I was free.  Free to be excited and giddy over a broken seashell, free to connect with my wife over a beautifully simple experience, free to breathe in awe and breathe out gratitude, free to be mesmerized at the beauty of her in the light, in that moment doing what she had hoped to do.  I heard her softly exclaim "ooohh, look!".  Then a bit later she walked up to me with fist closed, "Open your hand" she whispered, "Happy Anniversary" as she placed a perfect little seabiscuit in my hand.  This is the stuff we live for, these are the moments that I want to hold onto forever.  My arms are covered with goosebumps, and all my emotions are more than the grains of sand stuck to my feet.  Now my eyes well, but this time from joy.  Over the next couple of hours we continued looking and walking, sifting and searching.  Teeming with excitement at every magical piece of underwater story we found.