Life as a Stepping Stone.

There’s a river, deep in a forest. Filled with trees, animals, everything your mind could imagine. On one side of the river the grass is green and lush, the animals are peaceful and the weather is perfect. There’s a single house at the top of a hill, you can see a dog is running about in the yard with children chasing after it. On the other side of the river the grass is short, yellow. The trees have no leaves, it’s always storming. Lightning often rains down causing the trees to set on fire. The animals are hungry and dangerous. Many houses have tried to be built but none are complete. Most of them in ruins, broken windows and fallen walls are seen throughout the forest. The only way to get peaceful side is to go through the burning trees and animals. But there’s a pathway though the forest where if you move quietly and smartly, you can make it to the river without attracting any attention. But when ever anyone attempts to cross it there’s a crow at the top of a tree that chirps loudly and alerts the other animals that someone is attempting to escape.

There’s four rocks in the river that are used as a bridge. Each rock more sturdy then the next. The first is small, you can easily get to it but theres no grip and can easily fall of it as well, leaving you scrambling back to the river bank where the animals are waiting to attack. The second rock is bigger but farther away and requires a bit of effort to reach it. If you don’t try harder enough you won’t make it. Third, is the biggest rock but it’s sharp and the easiest to fall off if you’re not prepared and don’t hold on. The fourth is the farthest away but is also the most sturdy. If you reach it you won’t fall off it. Once someone reaches the fourth rock they usually stop for a little while to reflect on their journey before taking the final step to the peaceful side. I’ve seen many different people try and cross the river. Some will try the first rock repeatedly, others will come and leap for the fourth one right away.

It makes me so happy to see anyone successfully cross the river. But at the same time it’s saddening. Because they’re gone & now I have to wait for the next time someone tries and attempts it. Thinking to myself, when will the next person arrive? Are they coming now? Will they try any of the first three rocks or will they try and attempt to come straight for me. When ever someone reaches me I’ll always ask them why, why they did what they did. Why they chose each rock. And just as I learn everything, they get up and leave.

From time to time they come back to visit and I see how happy they are. They all come from a different path, with a different story but one thing is always the same. They’re always happy after me. And as I watch each person come and go I wonder, when will some one pick me up and take me with them.

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