The Cracked Acorn: Teardrop

If you want fickle weather, try the Alaska Aleutian Islands. Rain, snow, high winds, and even a bit of sunshine go through the daily blender of some of the world’s noted fits thrown by Mother Nature. I know. For the better part of a year in the 60s, I headed a team that did passive satellite photographic operations (SATTRACK). Since outside work required a clear night sky, we often had lots of time on our hands. I became very acquainted with the airmen that were barracked in the composite building that housed the mess hall and recreational activities.

We had one clear day a month when we could go beach combing on Shemya Island. At water’s edge, you could find what looked like round gemstones. These were really pieces of Coca-Cola and Clorox bottles left over from the WWII occupation of the island. The whole island was a treasure of junk and stuff left behind by the thousands of military and their dependents. A daily magnet was run over the island’s roads to pick up nails. Flat tires were very common. You never carried a spare but had the motor pool come out and install a fresh tire.

One of the airmen at our daily coffee table had picked up a Bering Sea polished piece of Clorox bottle. He called it his Australian teardrop; he thought it was washed up on that side of the island. It was very pretty with a tiny trapped bubble inside. He had taken it to the gem shop and mounted it in a necklace. His roomie wound up with it, never told of its ancient history. I remember the morning that we were shown stateside photos of the roomie’s fiancée. She was posed in her best with the teardrop around her neck.

We kept the secret and knew that the two airmen had never conversed about it and the seller was obviously not going to do any talking. His roomie was strong and when he came out to change a flat sometimes stripped the wheel’s lug nuts. He liked to tear out the last pages of your novel if he found it unattended. I suspect that at an early age he was tearing wings off live butterflies. Of course, we used every occasion to ask the perpetrator to get us more coffee and bring us a doughnut or two. The silence was golden.

I wonder today where the teardrop is. It may have become an heirloom or in an antique shop. If a jeweler has looked at it, he would know instantly it was just a piece of glass. No one knows that this once worthless stone has gone through 20 years plus, where it was polished by the world’s worst turbulent weather.

Christ saw the multitudes that followed Him like so many teardrops. This is seen in Matthew 5:1-16. He knew their hearts as He knows ours today. Life will polish us and if we are faithful to Him, we shall become that polished stone that has lasting beauty.

“Master, the tempest is raging! The billows are tossing high! The sky is o’er shadowed with blackness, No shelter or help is nigh; Carest Thou not that we perish? How canst Thou lie asleep, When each moment so madly is threat’ning A grave in the angry deep?” The winds and the waves shall obey Thy will, Peace be still! They all shall sweetly obey Thy will, Peace, Be still! Peace, peace, be still! (from SACRED SELECTIONS) – Mark 4:39