Green Leaf by Sandy Brannan

Kristen wiped at her face, pulling her hands away and looking with surprise at how dry her fingers were. She had somehow managed to cry until she had no tears left. She hadn’t even known that was possible. Glancing around, she realized her walk had taken her through a beautiful meadow. There were wildflowers everywhere showing off their colors, seeming to call out to each other in laughter as a gentle breeze moved them ever-so-slightly. Not wanting to feel any of the happiness they seemed to be offering her, she moved closer to the edge of trees bordering the meadow.

As the darkness of the trees slowly enveloped her, Kristen felt herself calming, felt almost at peace. Almost. She still couldn’t get everything off her mind. She had thought a walk would help, but it seemed she had just brought her troubles with her. More than anything she had wanted to leave them far behind, but they weren’t the kind of problems you could walk away from.

Feeling the all-too-familiar wetness on her cheeks again, Kristen wondered how much more she could take. That’s when she saw it, a perfect leaf hanging with pride from the tree in front of her. It was laden down with more drops of water than it could seemingly hold. She reached out to touch it before pulling her hand back slowly, suddenly not wanting to disturb it.

Something about all the drops called to her. Each one was perfect even though none were quite the same. There was a heaviness yet a lightness about them that she just couldn’t wrap her head around. How could the small leaf handle all that weight? How did it manage to look more green, more alive, more useful than any of the other leaves? Kristen was mesmerized at the sight of it.

The longer she stared, the more the leaf revealed itself to her. It had twisted at some point in time, making itself more available to the drops of dew that fell on it. The twisting seemed to be where its strength came from. The twisting reminded her of pain, but the leaf looked so much more alive than the others around it that she had to wonder.

Feeling her knees weaken, Kristen allowed herself to kneel in the grass for a moment. With sudden clarity she understood. The leaf wasn’t covered in problems that would weigh it down, eventually causing it to break under the pressure of the combined drops of dew. No, the leaf was covered in blessings, tiny drops of water that allowed it to slowly soak in life before they evaporated away, leaving behind enough to keep it from drying up completely.

She suddenly saw her problems through a different light, suddenly understood that good actually could come from all that had been weighing her down.

Most importantly, she realized for perhaps the first time in her life that she too had a role to play in all the problems that had plagued her for so long. She finally understood her need to twist a little more, fight a little less, and soak in the good that was offered through the bad.

Reaching into the back pocket of her jeans, she was surprised to find it empty. She felt a small smile lift the corners of her mouth, a feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time. She found that she was glad she didn’t have her phone with her, didn’t have a way to capture the moment to stare at later. It made the leaf more hers, more like something she could carry with her in her heart.

With one last look, Kristen stood and gently turned away from the leaf. As she wiped the grass off her knees, she felt a bit stronger. As she saw soft shafts of light where the forest opened into the meadow, she felt her smile widen. This time, as she walked through the waves of wildflowers, she didn’t turn away. Running now, with her fingertips softly brushing the colorful blooms, she focused on all the beauty around her.

Kristen knew her problems wouldn’t be gone when she returned home, knew they hadn’t managed to dissolve while she was out on her walk, but she could feel a change within herself. It was a change that would help her face them, help her accept the good that would no doubt eventually show up on the other side of them.

Wiping her eyes before she entered her house, Kristen wasn’t surprised to feel dryness this time. She knew when she looked in the mirror they would be red and slightly swollen, but that didn’t bother her like it usually would have. She finally understood. She was grateful for the gift of the dew on the green leaf. She planned to tuck it into her heart as a reminder of the promises yet to come.