The leaf of an oak tree doesn't have any significance for oak or anyone. During spring and summer, it will be on the oak and bring life to it, while in autumn it will fall off, just like many other leaves on that same oak. Once all leaves fall, we won't be able to tell the difference between that and the other leaves. Our leaf will be just another in a pile, completely insignificant to anyone or anything.
Years will pass and many new leaves will fall from that tree. We could find a bigger or smaller, more beautiful or even uglier, but we will never find that same leaf on this or any other oak tree.
And why is this leaf more significant than any other?
We loved this leaf. We spent the whole summer looking at that single leaf. We witnessed its birth, development, and withering. That is what gives that leaf significance, that's what makes it alive.
When the leaf withers and falls to the ground, it doesn't lose its value. Next year we can search through all the other leaves, but we won't find the exact one we're looking for. That leaf is special. We gave it significance, we, none other than ourselves. We are keeping it alive.
The same goes for people.
Dedicated to my grandpa, rest in peace.
YOU ARE READING
The Oak Tree Leaf
Short StoryTook me a lot of time to write this one. Since I was at village and had lots of free time, I wanted to try and get inspiration to write something. So I just sat there, waited for something to emerge and finally it did. ^.^ Sorry grandma, kinda annoy...