It sounds like the overtone of a major chord. But as a single note, it would be a major fifth. A light and happy tone that fills a room with brightness. It rests above the chord—resonating. My name. 

I try to fit my name like a snail fits its shell. The name that reminds you of a beach or a meadow. Or of an old family friend. It fills the streets and hallways but it is always sweet to the tongue. 

5 letters. Just enough to use as my first word on Wordle. 

Grace.

I didn’t always appreciate it. In 5th grade, I wanted a nickname to make me different. So after moving schools I told people I was called Gracie. But after a few days, I wasn’t pleased. The nickname felt unnatural. It was unfamiliar. It never caught my ears. When hearing it I would feel a pang in my heart. The person they were calling wasn’t me.

People have called me Gracie. Grac. G. But they never fit as well as Grace does. The name wasn’t even supposed to be mine, but my sister Clare’s. At the time of her birth, my mom had a friend. That friend had just named her child Grace. No one wants to seem like they copied. So my parents held off the name until they got to me. 

As common as clouds in the sky. I turn when it's called. But many heads turn with me. Each a different person, connected by the same name. A name that will never be mispronounced. A name that is easy to spell. A name that connects me to others. All of us are Grace. Our name fits us all.

Grace moves like a grapevine. Green like a lush field. With such style, it calls attention to itself. It speaks in sonnets. It shouts like a church hymn. I sit in the pew as it flows within me. It's like a dance that comes naturally when the music starts playing. The word gives me meaning and I try to keep pace. I try to live up to its beautiful sense. 

My beautiful name, Grace.