Eliane loves to play with shells. She can anthropomorphise anything, so many of our shells are named. 

There is one shell (which she’s named Spiral), which was given to me when I was 12, by a secret supporter. 

I was on a church youth camp (I went via the ISCF (Inter School Christian Fellowship) group at school, since I wasn’t yet a church goer at that point), and we had a thing (game?) called Angels and Mortals. Everyone had an angel and everyone was an angel for someone else, but the idea was to keep who you were an angel to absolutely secret. 

I have played similar games in other camps later in highschool, but I’m not sure it was ever so effectively kept secret as it was on this one. 

Anyway, my angel left this shell on my pillow one day over that weekend camp. Possibly with a little note, I don’t remember. 

I have kept it ever since. 

I ask myself why. I mean, sentimental value, obviously. But I have no idea who the person was who gave it to me. I know whoever it was left a few other little offerings, including, I think, a card at the end. I don’t remember what the card said, but I presume it wished me well. 

What’s more, I don’t actually remember anyone from that camp, except the teacher from my school who ran the ISCF, and I *think* there was another teacher from my school who attended too, although I can’t remember his name or face. 

But somehow, the memory of some unknown person taking such care of me, watching over me and trying to make me feel special, is still special today.