I think my love of marine biology started when I went on Mrs. Devin's fifth grade field trip.

We were going to an aquarium! I was so excited. I had never been to an aquarium before.

When Mrs. Devin announced it, many children booed, saying aquariums are "boring" because "there's nothing fun to do there".

I couldn't believe them. Were they really not fascinated by these incredible creatures that we call fish?

In the days leading up to the field trip, I studied every book I could find in the library about fish and marine mammals. I was antsy with excitement.

When I wasn't reading, I was imagining what the fish would look like. My favorite ones to think about were the goldfish - how big would they be?

I had seen pictures of goldfish before, but I had never seen one in real life, aside from the cheesy snack. Of course, I knew they were very small, but a child cannot simply stick to the facts and keep their imagination in check, now can they?

I imagined the goldfish to be three times my size, with a lovely orange color and little spots on its face that separated it from the rest. I imagined that it would swim right up to the glass and I would put my hand up to it, almost as if I was touching it through the glass.

The day before the field trip was the most devastating point in my entire life.

Mrs. Devin broke the news that, a few days before, one of the great big fish tanks had broke, flooding the entire building, and that instead we would be visiting the local indoor play center for our trip. Most of my classmates cheered, but I did not.

I cried. Big, fat, ugly wet tears, for the rest of the day. I couldn't believe it. I was so excited to visit the aquarium, one might even say I felt euphoric - but that day, that dreadful, dreadful day, I felt anything but happy.

I will never forget that catastrophe. A day does not go by where I do not feel a sudden sadness that my child self did not get the wonderful experience of coming to the aquarium.

When I finally did visit the now-repaired facility, scientists had called it a miracle. An impossible feat.

There, in the goldfish tank, loomed the orange fish of my dreams. It had spots on its face just like I had imagined, and it was at least three times as big as my 11-year-old self.

I couldn't believe it.

I didn't want to believe it.

Did I believe it?

Well, maybe.

Because I had created it.