A small story

When I walked out this morning, I could feel that this world was against me. And how could it not be? It belongs to Him. The graceful curve of the road reminded me of His works, which the cold, bare trees had arisen hours earlier to proclaim. The wind, blowing through the trees like fingers on a harp, was singing, "Great and Terrible, Almighty and Cold."  I shivered, chilled with fear, and walked on. The sun, I could sometimes see it over the grimy buildings, was coming up over the mountain, leaping from the peak to the valley bed to warm our city like a husband his wife.

 

Even when filled with the warm, yellow sun, this city seems a waste. Our merriment is fakery; our laughter is veiled tears; our entertainment a mere soporific, leading to the sleep of death.

 

But while walking to work I saw a strange sight. A child was walking with her mother. In a tree, she saw a leaf that she wanted to get for her mother, so she darted to the tree and climbed it. She climbed almost to the top, for that's where the leaf was, and she stretched out to get the leaf. She stretched too far, and she started to fall forward. She swung her arms furiously behind her, trying to grad hold of a branch, but she missed them all. She fell forward; the mother screamed. The child started somersault to the ground, screaming to her mother for help. I thought child would break her neck, or get some serious injury; she was high enough. But when she reached the ground, it cradled her like a soft mattress. It bent to the shape of her body, took her into the earth a few feet, and then sprang her back out onto her feet. She then ran to her mother, grabbed her hand and they walked away happily, seemingly unsurprised by the kindness of the earth.