The Little Stone

         Cast into the shadows of a mighty oak was a little stone. It was gray, a warm gray. It was not a cool gray like the mighty rocks that formed the mountains. It was small, almost invisible, unless you wanted to see it, but no one and nothing ever did.

         It was surrounded. There was the river to its left, with its soft water that called out at night and laughed with a horrible rippling voice. There was a huge flower on its right, with gold and red hues that attracted many bees and butterflies that would suck up its sweet nectar while looking down on the stone. Behind it was a den for a family of foxes, all brown with long tails, slick paws and eyes that would only give vacant stares to the little stone. But the worst, the one thing that really got to the stone, not the foxes nor the flowers and bees, and definitely not the mighty stream... the one thing that mocked the stone constantly was that great, tall, huge oak tree.

         The tree's shadow shaded the stone from any light and the cruel leaves would cover it from sight during Autumn. It could stand being covered under dirt, under snow, under grass and under other rocks. The little stone could not endure being buried, suffocated by those red and orange hideous leaves that came from the cruel tree, and the mighty oak knew it.

         The stone would sit there, day after day, doing nothing. It would sit there, in the shadow of the tree, and it would ponder what was beyond the horizon, beyond the small enclosure of trees and rocks. It always dreamed of seeing the world, of going far, but it was only a stone. Sometimes it forgot.

         One day, one time, the stone heard noises. They were unfamiliar noises. The foxes hid, and the bees flew off, while the flowers laid low to the ground. But the stone couldn't do anything, just sit there, waiting for whatever it was. Then it saw the source. Three boys, three young boys were running through the forest, and though they were young, the stone trembled in fear. It wasn't that they could hurt him, for even if they had stepped on him he wouldn't have felt much. It was just the humiliation, the fact that things much younger and less experienced could control him and hold so much power over him.

         To make it even worse, one of the boys saw him. The stone had no choiced but to be kicked by the young giant with his sneaker and be flung through the air. When he opened his eyes though, the stone saw a sight even worse. The stone, that innocent stone, had landed right in front of the mighty oak tree. Not a meter away, nor a foot, but only a few inches. The tree towered even higher now, and the stone just sighed in disgust. It was bad enough that the tree didn't like him, and it was worse that he had to live in its shadow, but now, oh the cruelty, now he had to sit next to him. Not even next to him, directly under him, under the cruel smile.

         The tree had seen the whole thing, and had just smiled. It knew that no man could harm it. It was too tall to be cut down, or so the lumberjacks had said. The stone watched them cut down the other, smaller, prettier trees while the grand oak laughed with a rustle of its branches. The stone would watch the men drag the other trees away. The stone didn't really feel anything towards those trees. They were not its friends, nor were they its enemies. They were simply, it thought, equal. The stone had never thought of them as equal before, but when it watched the men drag them away, it knew they were. They were simply just there, not because they wanted to, but because Fate just worked in a strange way.

         For the oak though, it was not equal. It was not greater either. It was lesser, so much lesser. Sure, it was larger than the stone, older than the stone, and maybe even wiser than the stone, but it was surely not greater. It didn't have compassion, it didn't have joy, it didn't have friends. A tree, a stupid, big, ugly oak tree. This was what the stone had hated for so long. This was what it had feared for so long. This was what it envied for so long.

         Fate, though, didn't envy anything, and had no remorse when it struck the mighty oak down with a bolt of lightning. What a sight. What a sight indeed. A huge oak falling to the ground by a simple act of fate. It crashed, thundered, roared, and groaned in pain. It was engulfed in flame and smoke, and burned for many hours until the rain eased its suffering. The stone, that little stone that had lived in its shadow for so long, now looked upon it with a new feeling. It looked upon it with sympathy.

         The tree had never done anything really wrong. Sure, it laughed at the stone and blocked it from the sun and buried it with its leaves, but it wasn't to blame. It never chose to be there, it was fate that had seeded it there and had let it grow so big and strong through the years. But now, that once mighty oak, laid there quietly. It was black, dark, and lonely. It was alone now, withering away with time. It was still not greater, and now it wasn't even lesser. It was equal. Fate had struck it down and made it suffer like the stone had suffered for so long. It was nothing now.

         The stone sat there for days, watching that mighty oak lay there in pain. Its black body filled the area and its moans shook the earth. Nothing took sympathy upon that oak, except that little stone. The flowers, the foxes, the river and the clouds, they all ignored the fallen oak. Only the stone gazed upon it.

         Many days, months and years passed. Lifetimes went and came, were born and died, and the stone just waited. The land changed, and the stone slowly disappeared from the world. It was engulfed into the ground, warmed and soothed by the dirt. It waited in the soil, waited in the darkness until that tree had joined it, had settled into the earth through the days and nights.

         They never said a word to each other, not even a simple greeting. What they did share was a look. It was the same one they had shared for so long, the one that each thought was an evil glare. But it wasn't. They were so far apart before that they couldn't make out what the look really was. It wasn't pain, it wasn't anger, it wasn't sorrow, it wasn't sympathy, and it wasn't even confusion. It was merely happiness. They were both back where they belonged, back into the dark and cold earth that they had been born. There they could not be haunted by Fate, they could not be hurt by others and they could not be lonely anymore.

         So much was around them, and yet nothing seemed to matter but a little feeling between them. It was the feeling they had longed for so long, the feeling that they had been deprived of because they had been set into a world that didn't show it and kept it hidden from them. Now they were safe in the earth, and allowed to feel what they felt. They felt complete, peaceful, and released. The little stone wasn't a stone anymore, it was something much greater. It didn't know what that meant, but it did know one thing: it was truly equal with the great oak tree.