Maple Leaves

It was the fall of 1998 when days were getting shorter and nights were an endless ocean. I was still a young girl spending my days basking in the sun. My innocent self collected maple leaves and chanted virtues of tolerance, unity and peace. Those were the days of blissful unawareness, until one day I grew up all too soon.

It was just another day of collecting maple leaves and reciting the good virtues when along came the old man with kind eyes. He reminded me of my grandpa who I didn’t get a chance to know much. I loved playing with him, I always did. I would sit on his back and he would take me around the park. But that day was different.

There was a new game on his mind and I was just as excited. But as he threw his weight on me I wanted to scream. But my mouth was gripped and my body so raw. The maple leaves blew over me, leaving me to him. When the game was over he repeated the good old virtues for me to remember. I still collect maple leaves in fall but tolerance, unity and peace have gone.

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