A true story about a glass ball That found me

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• Glass floats, glass fishing floats, or Japanese glass fishing floats are popular collectors' items. They were once used by fishermen in many parts of the world to keep their fishing nets, as well as longlines or droplines afloat. Wikipedia

 I visited my twin sister and her family, in Lanikai Beach, Hawaii,  from my home in Baltimore, Maryland. They had moved to Hawaii six months earlier, and I went to help them finish unpacking. 

My sister and her family,  while walking the beach at varying times of day  found several glass balls that had washed ashore, She called me to report, "I found another one". 

This is a rare event according to many of their neighbors. The glass balls varied in size and color. Have you ever seen the glass balls tied up in a fishing net?  There are  balls that have broken  away from the nets and travel the ocean currents.

 I was awake hours before the sunrise for several mornings, while I adjusted to the time change. At my sisters' urging, I woke her and we headed for the beach.  It was a beautiful time of day to comb the shore line.  We were both hoping to find a glass ball washed ashore, for me. We returned midmorning's to her house, where I painted  from memory the "essence" of our walk, attempting to capture the glow that is sunrise on Lanikai Beach, Hawaii.

After several days, we took a drive to the North Shore. We visited a wonderful gift shop, where baskets were brimming with glass balls. After carefully choosing it, I carried a ball to the cashier, then stopped.  I returned it to the basket,  just  knowing clearly that  I did not want to buy what I wanted to find.

Returning home that evening, I painted a  glass ball along the waters edge in my painting. In this way, I believed I had found my ball.  My search for a glass ball was completely satisfied. I had a peaceful, grateful, spiritual feeling of joy, of thankfulness to God, for the support of my family and of my many art teachers that had helped me learn to paint.

The very next afternoon,  I set up my easel under the shade of a palm tree to paint the "twin moks"  en plein air.  My sister settled happily next to me in her lounge chair with a good book.

I looked up from my palette and noticed something floating in the surf.  "Look!" I shouted. Then, my sister saw it.  We ran down to the waters edge. She scooped up the ball, as my hands still held a tube of paint and the lid. "It's your ball, it's your ball!!", she screamed with joy. We jumped up and down in a circle, laughing and hugging each other.  

The ball found me. It had washed up, covered in black sea scum, with a tiny crab on it. It was in the exact location and the spitting image of the one I had painted the night before.