Like shark-eye snail shells, sand dollars that are perfect seem all but impossible to find.  They are so delicate, it is hard for me to imagine how they come into being in the first place.  But they do, and their remains are easy to spot along the edge of the water.  I have tried to arrange the pieces of different broken sand dollars into the shape of one whole one, and the task seems almost possible because they break along similar lines.  There's a point in there somewhere.  The more I think about it though, the more I think that perfection--the completeness that comes from being there--comes with the sun that rises on all these fragments.