ADVERTISEMENT
In late May, Calvin walked slowly with the aid of a wooden cane across the green campus of a technical college located on the outskirts of Atlanta. Dozens of enthusiastic young students were busy planting young oak trees into the soil. Their roots were still small, yet they held firmly to the earth.
Elias walked right beside him, taking in the sunny day.
“You know, Calvin,” Elias remarked with a warm smile, “those three short days you had left turned out to be remarkably long after all.”
“They are certainly not over yet,” Calvin replied contentedly.
“Then be sure to let me know in advance,” Elias joked playfully. “My wife wants to know exactly how many pots of soup she needs to prepare for us.”
Calvin smiled warmly at his old friend. For many long years, he had believed that living alone represented the absolute worst tragedy that could happen to a man. Now he understood that while quiet solitude could bring occasional sadness, living surrounded by people who were secretly waiting for your death was far worse. He watched the students carefully cover the exposed roots with rich, damp soil, recalling Barbara’s favorite saying that every living thing requires proper space, attentive care, and time to reveal its true nature.
Some people, he reflected thoughtfully, blossom beautifully when they receive love.
Others merely choose to show their sharp thorns.
And sometimes, truly saving your own life does not simply mean surviving a physical illness, but having the courage to uproot the people who were already celebrating your burial.
THE END.
ADVERTISEMENT
