An Early Spring Tale, With Illustrations

An economic upheaval gripped the world, slowing business and bringing darkness to the land. Huddled in her cubicle, a woman shivered and watched, wondering what would become of her. She saw others around her fall, and she wept as the decay spread

and grew

and grew some more.

Finally, the day came when she too was dismissed from her job. “But what is to become of me?’ she said. “I am all alone.”

“That’s not our problem,” came the reply, and the door closed behind her.

She turned and trudged away, feeling hollow inside.

For many years, she had worked hard and done a good job. There was still much work to do, yet there was no money. How could there be no money when there was so much work?

But now there was no work for her, and no money. She went home and slept the long sleep of despair. Despair because no other jobs were there to find; she was turned from every door. The wind pulled at the shingles of her home, and a biting cold made the rafters pop, and it felt for all the world that spring would never come again. A sticky, dark fear gripped her then. A terror so deep that it sucked at the very edges of her soul, pulling her down in a mire that held tight.

“No,” she cried. “No! I don’t want this. I do not want to fall to fear and despair.” She looked around, seeking comfort, but none had any to offer in such terrible times, for they were suffering too. But that’s why we’re suffering, she thought. The fear. It’s the fear that does this to us.

With this knowledge, she soothed herself. Hush child, she thought. Hush. Do not struggle in the mire, or you will only wallow deeper. Look to the future, and hope. Look to the future and hope. So she calmed herself, and as she calmed, a foot found purchase at the edge of the muck, allowing her to walk free.

When she’d cleared the mire, she looked up to see the road. Frozen and hard, it stretched through the woods, and she nearly fell into despair again when she sensed how long it was.

Reminding herself to stay calm, she looked at the road again, only this time, she noticed something. The sun was out, and it felt warm on her face. She stood for a moment, breathing deeply again, and the air did not bite her lungs. Instead it flowed sweetly in and out, sweeping away the stale stench of sorrow. In the distance she heard crows, and the cry of a hawk.

Looking down at the ice, she realized it was starting to melt, unlocking the leaves trapped within.

They’re so pretty, she thought. “But they’re still dead,” she said aloud, and frowned.

She began walking, and soon came across signs of life. Other creatures had crossed this trail before her, creatures who had endured the depths of winter with far less shelter than she had enjoyed. Yet they survived.

The trill of a woodpecker vibrated through the forest. Peering through the trees, she caught a glimpse of him, looking up at the sun, joyful over the return of warmth and food.

Looking down, she saw that the woodpecker wasn’t the only life returning to the land.

And when she stepped back a little, she realized the new growth was spreading, thriving where there had once been destruction.

She smiled, and looked up at the road again. It didn’t seem so long any more.