For many years, Clem’s grandma gave her the same strange birthday present: a small plastic sheep. But after her grandma passed away, Clem found out that these simple toys had a hidden meaning, one that would transform her life and show how much her grandmother cared.
As long as I can remember, Grandma had given me little plastic sheep with a bell every year for my birthday and for just as long, I never got why. A different colored bell each time but always a sheep.
I looked at my shelf where they all sat in a tidy line; each one from another birthday.
“She’s nice,” I thought to myself. “But does she even recall what she gave me last year?”
I didn’t want to ask her. After all, Grandma was getting old. Her hair was gray; hands shaky and memory wasn’t what it used to be. Yet every year without fail on my birthday she would come over with a little box in hand
“Happy Birthday, Clem,” she would say, her voice gentle and raspy.
“Thanks, Grandma,” I would answer, grinning, though a bit puzzled.
She always seemed so proud as she watched me unwrap it, like the sheep were something really special. But to me, they were just… sheep. Plastic and plain.
I used to believe it was because she had so many grandkids to remember. My two older brothers, Sheldon and Sam, got things like cash or tools—items they could actually use. But me? Sheep.
“Maybe she’s just becoming forgetful,” I would think, trying to ignore it.
Soon enough, everything shifted. My 19th birthday passed by without Grandma giving me another sheep. She had gotten sick a few months earlier, and everyone knew her time was running out.
One night, Mom sat next to me on the couch looking worn out and upset. “You should visit her, Clem,” she said gently.
I hesitated for a moment. “I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t want to see her like this.”
Mom nodded slowly. “I get it but she cares about you a lot; you were always important to her.”
I wiped my eyes quickly not wanting tears to fall down my face. “Yeah, I know.”
A few days after, Grandma passed away. I couldn’t hold back the tears. I missed her so much already. She had always been there, with her gentle voice and warm eyes, moving around, doing her best even though she was older.
One year later, on my 20th birthday, something odd happened. The celebration was small—just my family—and I was trying to feel happy. But it felt different without Grandma present. Mom walked over to me holding a small box in her hand and for a moment, I froze.
“What is this?” I questioned, feeling puzzled.
Mom grinned softly. “It’s from Grandma. She gave it to me before she left us. Said it was the final one.”
I gazed at the box, a lump forming in my throat. “Another sheep?” I whispered gently.
Mom nodded her head. “She wished for you to have it.”
My heart raced as I slowly opened the box. Inside, just like I thought, was a tiny plastic sheep. This one had a golden bell around its neck. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. It was the final present she would ever give me.
I left the room, excusing myself from my family. The laughter of my nieces and nephews playing in the background felt far away. I needed some time alone. Heading to my room, I clutched the sheep tightly and set it on the shelf with all the others.
“I miss you Grandma,” I whispered as tears rolled down my cheeks.
That’s when Sheldon, my big brother, showed up at the door. “Clem,” he said while stepping into my room. “You alright?”
I shook my head and tried to dry my eyes. “I just miss her so much Sheldon! I always thought those sheep were… strange but now… now they mean everything to me.”
Sheldon smiled with that knowing look in his eyes. “You haven’t figured it out yet have you?”
I blinked, feeling puzzled. “What did you figure out?”
He strolled over to the shelf, grabbing one of the sheep. “Have you ever checked underneath?”
“What are you talking about?” I questioned, my voice still trembling.
Sheldon flipped the sheep over, revealing the bottom side. There, in small letters, was a note.
I squinted. “I adore you,” it said. But below, there was a small digit.
“Hold on, what’s that?” I inquired, puzzled.
“It’s been there the whole time, Clem,” Sheldon answered with a smile. “Every one of these sheep has a message. And a number.”
I looked at him, shocked. “You mean… they’re not just random presents?”
“Not random at all,” he stated, moving to the shelf and grabbing another sheep. He flipped it over. “Here’s another one. Look! A number.”
I took the first sheep Grandma had ever given me and turned it around in my hands. Sure enough, there was a digit under its little legs! My heart raced as I picked up another one then another checking each of them out; every single sheep had the same message of love but with its own special number.
“But what does it mean?” I asked, feeling a sense of urgency.
Sheldon laughed. “I’m not giving you all the answers, little sis. Think about it. Why would Grandma give you a sheep every year with a number?”
I thought hard, my mind spinning. “It has to be some kind of code,” I whispered.
Sheldon nodded, his eyes shining bright. “Exactly. And there’s a reason for the order. What was the last message you found?”
I remembered the last sheep I got on my 20th birthday. “It told me, ‘Go to the bank, Clem.'”
“Okay,” Sheldon replied, nodding his head. “Now, take those digits and put them in the order you received the sheep. What do you notice?”
My hands trembled as I picked up a notebook and began jotting down the numbers from my 7th birthday to my 20th. Gradually, a pattern started to appear. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing.
“Is this… a bank account number?” I murmured, my heart racing.
Sheldon smiled. “You’re starting to understand.”
The following morning, I stood outside Grandma’s bank, holding the slip of paper with the account number. My hands were clammy and my stomach felt uneasy.
I walked up to the teller, a friendly lady who greeted me with a smile. “How can I assist you today?”
I inhaled deeply. “I… believe I have an account here that was opened by my grandma.”
The teller glanced at the paper I gave her and her eyes grew wide for a moment. “Just a second, please.”
After waiting for several minutes, a bank advisor appeared to talk to me. He introduced himself and motioned for me to follow him into his office.
“Miss Clementine,” he started as he sat down across from me, “It looks like your grandmother created a very unique account for you when you were born.”
I gulped. “How much is in there?”
He pressed some buttons on his computer and then showed me the screen. My mouth dropped open.
“More than $120,000,” he said without any rush.
I looked at the figure on the display, totally shocked. “This… this belongs to me?”
“Yes,” the advisor answered with a grin. “Your grandma made yearly deposits for you, and it has grown over time. But there’s more.”
He gave me a tiny key. “There’s also a safety deposit box under your name. Do you want to check it out?”
I nodded, unable to speak.
A little while later, I found myself in a private room with the small safety deposit box right in front of me. My hands shook as I opened it. Inside was just one envelope, written to me in Grandma’s recognizable handwriting.
I took it out carefully, opening the envelope gently. Inside was a letter written by hand.
Dear Clem,
You figured it out! Please forgive this old lady for tricking you like this, but I care about you so much. I needed to ensure that you were taken care of and to do it in a way that no one could steal the money from you.
If I’m still here, come by for tea, sweetie. If I’m not around, just remember that I’m always with you.
Love, Nana.
“I brought you some tea, Grandma,” I said softly, pouring a cup and placing it next to her gravestone. “Two sugars, just like you enjoy it.”
I sat on the soft grass, sipping my own tea and letting the quiet surround me. For the first time in a long time, I felt calm. It was as if she was right there with me, her gentle smile in the breeze and her love in every sip of tea.
“Thanks, Nana,” I said softly, clearing a tear. “You’ve provided me with more than I ever thought possible.”
