The lifte of the Leaf |
I was nine years old when my grandmother died in cancer. It was in the fall on the 19 of October she left our world for the heavens above. I can still remember that horrible day when my mother told me. It was at the train station on the 20 of October, the day after my wonderful grandmother Ruth had passed away. My mother and I had just come with a train and were on our way home when my mother broke down and started to cry. I had noticed that she had not seemed so happy earlier, but I had not thought about it very much. Through the tears that fell down her cheeks she told me what had happened. I could not believe what I heard.
“No! No! It’s not true! Your lying, grandma is not dead!” I screamed loudly.
My mother did not know what to do, how to calm me down. She did try, but I could not accept what she told me. I just kept screaming as loudly as I could.
After a while I heard a calm voice. And I turn around, at the moment completely quiet. There, at an old bench, sat a boy, maybe fifteen or seventeen years old. He had black hair that hung in front of his face. His skin was light and he was very skinny. His clothes were too big and black. His head was hanging like he did not have the strength to hold it up. There was something about him that I could not put my finger on. He seemed… maybe sad in a way. He had on black knitted wrist warmers, and in his hands he held a big yellow leaf. He slowly lifted his head a little and looked at me. And when his big blue eyes looked at me, it felt like they could see straight through me. Those eyes were special. You know that darker line blue eyes usually have around the lighter blue? – His eyes did not have them. They were very light blue and the blue sort of melted together with the white. And even there I could see a hint of sadness.
“Come here” he said with his soft and calm voice.
He did not speak with a loud powerful voice as some people do. His voice was quiet, almost like a whisper.
I watched him for a little bit, should I? Or should I go to my mother.
“Come on Katya! We have to go home.” It was my mother.
But I did not listen to her. I did not even look at her. I just stared at the boy. And then, I do not know why, I started to walk towards him.
“Katya, don’t talk to strangers! Come here now.”
Once again I ignored my mother. Instead I sat down beside the boy, still with tears running down my cheeks.
“Has your grandmother died?” he asked slowly.
I nodded.
“How old was she?”
“S-s-she was seventy-three”
“I’m sorry; it’s never fun when someone we love dies.”
I shook my head as an answer.
“But, you see,” he continued. “It must have been her time to go. If it had not been her time, god wouldn’t have sent one of his angels to bring her to him.”
“You think she is with god right now?” I asked quietly.
“Of course she is.”
“I just can’t understand why she had to go.”
He was quiet for a while and looked at the big yellow leaf he held in his hands. Then he said:
“Do you see this leaf?”
I nodded and looked at it.
“This leaf represents life. Not only his own life, but everyone’s and everything’s life. Think about it; in the spring, this leaf was born. He slowly grew bigger and bigger and just more and more beautiful. When the summer came, he had become a magnificent green leaf. It was a part of a big tree and he did what he was supposed to do. He helped the tree make oxygen, he was beautiful to people who looked at him. That was the meaning of this leafs life, his destiny. Then the fall came, and the leaf started to become yellow and small brown dots appeared. This made this leaf realize that his time on our earth was running out. And he knew that his last day could be here at any moment. But it didn’t matter so much, because he had done what he was supposed to do.”
He made a break and looked at me. I was still crying, but not as heavily as earlier. So he began talking again:
“And then came the day when he had to go, so he relisted his grip of the tree and slowly fell to the ground. His life was over, but people still remember him. In the cold white winter we remember the green trees and how beautiful it was. It’s the same with your grandmother only that her spring and summer was longer, many years longer. And even now that she’s gone from earth, she will always be with you in your heart. And you will always remember her. Do you understand?”
I nodded. I understood everything, and somehow, everything seemed so much better at once. I know it might have been a bit early, but I felt that I could accept the death of my beloved grandmother.
“Here, take this.” the boy said and gave me the leaf. “As a memory of life.”
“Thank you” I said and I meant it from the bottom of my heart.
I stood up and smiled at him, and then I went back to my mother.
I never saw that boy again. Maybe he went home, or maybe his leaf fell of the tree. But no matter what, I will always remember him and his story about the life of the leaf.
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| Kommentarer | | Balkongbrud - 29 jul 13 - 15:42 | | Mycket fin historia! Dock kunde grammatiken förbättras en del. Kändes lite försvenskat |
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