Miracle

There are two ways to live your life:

One is as though nothing is a miracle.

The other is as though everything is a miracle.

Albert Einstein

Children view the world with big eyes, wide open and amazed.  Everything is a thing of wonder.  A dried leaf is worth carrying all the way home.  A dandelion bloom in all its bright yellow glory is just the right size for a little hand.

To a child, everything is a miracle.

To an adult, who has seen the world through old eyes, all the beauty of creation is a repeat of an old movie.

But, then that adult has a grandchild.  Talk about a miracle!  Everything about this child is miraculous and brilliant.

Everything is a miracle, A. Einstein.  Everything!

The Leaf

I was a bud when I heard a baby’s first word.  Her mother was below me, pushing the stroller.  “Bah!”  It was a great word. 

I was almost leafed out when the boy on a red bike slid into my tree.  He scraped his arm and knee; he ran inside crying.  The red bike lay below me for a while.  I don’t know its thoughts, but I am certain it hurt much more than the boy.

In bright summer, I danced in the warm breezes.  The young lady with yellow hair strolled beneath me with the young man in military uniform.  They leaned against my tree, whispering promises, planning the future, and kissing lightly.

As the air cooled at night, I felt my color seeping back into the tree.  I tried to stop it, but it didn’t hear me.  My edges became golden, and along my spine, burgundy red appeared. 

The boy on the red bike rode under me to start school.  I watched the baby taking her first steps; she stopped to pat my tree.  The young lady with yellow hair ambled along while reading a letter; she was laughing and crying, then laughing.

Daytime changed from cool to cold, and I let go of my tree, falling to the ground with the other leaves.  Next year, another leaf will watch for my friends.   Will it love them as much as I?