Epiphany

A twig breaks behind me, mimics the pounding of the judge’s gavel, which changed my future forever. The steady stream gurgles in front of me, promising eventual refuge, hope, answers. The sound of footsteps muffled by the dirty earth betrays the presence of a child of fourteen, teary-eyed and quivering. She spies the open rock next to me and takes a seat, contemplating the dusty bank riddled with holes and tree roots. I am reminded of myself- lonely and ridiculed, yet I know that she is troubled by something far worse than anything I’ve faced. She twists thick twine around her dainty fingers and, gazing up at the sturdy, thick branches whispering her name, confesses the expected outcome of her own trials. I sit, speechless, wondering how any verdict could be so cruel, how any child could feel so helpless, what I could possibly do to change the judge’s mind. I stand and take her hand and suggest we venture to the other, greener side of the stream, where the grass is softer and more plentiful, the air fresher and more pleasant, and the sun brings its fulfilling light to more of the field. She looks at me and smiles, and I watch her drift hesitantly toward the stream as she carefully dips one toe into the water and, feeling its unexpected warmth, flings her small frame into it She throws her hands up in the air, releasing the binding twine, and giggles and splashes in the refreshing stream, collapsing in the sun on the opposite bank with a slight grin on her innocent face. Peaceful. Asleep. Breathing. I smile and follow her footsteps, crossing the stream as pleasant chills run the length of my spine. I lay down next to her, this child who set my future in stone. I’m instantly drowsy, comforted by the sun that kisses my face and the hopeful innocent laying next to me. My head touches the grass, my eyes blink and are shut and the stream continues to flow, promising the enduring beauty of life.