The Last Leaf

If I had my choice—which , of course, I don't—I would choose my final season to occur in October—not that I plan for that any time soon! This is my favorite month. I was born in May, a suitable season for life and growth, and it seems to me that the end of life would be appropriate in autumn, the season of harvest and rejoicing.

Leo Buscaglia has written a lovely children's book, The Fall of Freddie the Leaf, which tells a story for readers of all ages. It goes something like this:

Freddie and hundreds of other leaves shared life on a tall tree in the park where children played and old people came to sit in the shade and families spread out picnics on checkered tablecloths. But Spring breezes passed as did Summer sun and rain. It was October, and one night everything was covered with a thin layer of white which melted in the morning. Freddie's wise friend explained that the frost signaled the end of summer and the arrival of Fall.

Soon all the leaves began to turn other colors besides green: deep yellow, purple, bright orange or red. And then the breezes that earlier had caused them to dance now pulled on their stems until they were swept away from the tree and dropped softly to the ground.  "What's happening?" they all wondered.

The big old leaf explained that this happens to leaves in the Fall; it's time for them to change their home. "Some people call it to die," he said.

"I'm afraid to die," Freddie admitted to his friend. "I don't know what's down there."

"We all fear what we do not know. You were not afraid when Spring became summer or when Summer became Fall. You do not need to be afraid of this new season."

"Then what is the reason for all this? Why were we here if we are only going to fall and die?"

"It's been about purpose," Freddie's friend explained. "It's been about happy times in the sunlight and under the moon's glow. It's been for old people and children and families under our shade. It's been about colors in the Fall. That's enough."

For a little while, Freddie was all alone on the branch, and then the snow fell and he drifted quietly down and landed softly on the white ground. It didn't hurt at all. And for the first time, he could see the whole tree. He knew that he had been a part of its strong, lasting life. And it made him proud!

The leaf analogy can be carried only so far; it fails when it comes to resurrection and eternal life. But I find that it sweetly addresses the autumn season of life, and the confidence we have that all is well for us!

MaryMartha

Art from http://www.sxc.hu/