Can anyone provide me with a beautiful piece of prose with an author suitable for middle school students to excerpt?

Shells by Ximurong, I think. Shell

Xi Murong

On the seashore, I picked up a small shell. The shell was small, but very hard and delicate. There were dots of dark or light color in the middle of the pattern, and if you looked closely, there was a complex pattern around each dot that formed a circle of its own. No wonder people in ancient times used shells to make coins, lying in my hand is really a work of art, is not willing to take and others to exchange the treasure ah!

Picked up this shell in the seaside, which once lived in a small soft flesh has long been dead, in the sun, sand and waves of the wash, the shell in the traces left by life has completely disappeared. But for such a short, tiny life, for such a fragile, humble life, Kamikura to make it a home is how exquisite, how careful, how meticulous ah!

Isn't my time and space in this world longer and more than the life in the shell? Should I not use my ability to do what I can do more delicately, more carefully, more meticulously?

Please let me leave something to cherish and marvel at.

After a thousand years, there may be people who will look at the traces I have left again and again and again, and cannot help but sigh softly:

"What a stubborn and simple heart this is!"