For as long as I can remember, my grandmother gave me the same strange gift every year for my birthday—a small, plastic sheep. It wasn’t anything particularly special or luxurious. It was the kind of cheap, brightly colored plastic toy you might find at a discount store, the kind you might dismiss as nothing more than a child’s trinket. At first, I was confused by the oddity of it all. Why a plastic sheep, year after year? It didn’t make sense, and I often joked to my friends that it was some kind of quirky family tradition. Yet, as a kid, I simply accepted it and added each one to the shelf in my room without much thought.
Every year, as I unwrapped the same gift, I’d smile politely, thank my grandma, and place the sheep next to the others. Sometimes, I’d even make little jokes about it with her, asking why she didn’t ever pick something more exciting or different. Her reply was always the same: “It’s special, dear, in its own way.”
It wasn’t until years later that I began to realize something strange. As I grew older and spent more time with my grandmother, I started to notice small details. The sheep weren’t all identical. Some were painted slightly differently, others had tiny engravings or unusual markings on their backs. But still, I didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t until my grandmother passed away and I was going through her belongings that I discovered the truth behind the mysterious gift.
I had inherited a large portion of her belongings, and while sorting through boxes, I came across a large, old shoebox tucked away in her closet. Inside, I found dozens of those same plastic sheep, but this time, something was different. As I carefully examined them, I noticed that each sheep had a small number written on its underside, and after reading them all, a pattern emerged—each number corresponded to a different year of my life, starting from the year I was born.
At that moment, I was flooded with memories of all those birthdays. It was as though I had seen the pattern all along, but had never understood its significance until now. Each year, my grandmother had been marking my growth and the passage of time, keeping track of the milestones and the memories we had shared. The sheep were a way for her to document my life, one year at a time. But there was something even deeper—each sheep had a tiny hidden message engraved on its back. These messages were never overt, but upon closer inspection, they revealed her feelings about that year—wishes for me, hopes for my future, words of wisdom, and loving encouragement.
It turns out that my grandmother had been using these simple, plastic sheep as a personal archive of our relationship, recording the most meaningful moments in a way that only she and I could understand. She had carefully chosen each one, and each year, the message or engraving would reflect the changes I had undergone in that time—whether it was my first day of school, a significant achievement, or a challenging time she wanted to encourage me through.
It brought tears to my eyes to realize the depth of her love and the effort she had put into those small, seemingly insignificant gifts. In her own quiet way, she had created something extraordinary—an ongoing love letter to me that I didn’t understand until it was too late.
Now, every plastic sheep I own is more than just a toy or a decoration. It’s a symbol of my grandmother’s enduring love, the years we spent together, and the memories she left me with. I cherish them all, knowing they carry a secret purpose I was too young to appreciate when she was alive.
