Just a Puddle

Today I saw a puddle on my driveway.  It was a nice puddle, perfectly round with faint ripples. A leaf was floating through the puddle like a little orange boat. I instantly grew fond of the puddle.  I sat there for a while; stirring the puddle with a stick and pondering things like, how many drops went into making this puddle?

But then, an awful thought struck me: this puddle will soon evaporate.  The treacherous sun will soon banish the puddle into wherever it is that puddles go to die.  All of the water droplets that defied all odds to end up in this particular spot on this particular rectangle of pavement in this particular neighborhood would be torn apart and annihilated.

I grew very sad.  Could I somehow save the puddle? Or was I powerless?

Indeed, despite all of my efforts to save my puddle, nature took its course. The puddle evaporated into the air and out of my life. 

I hung my head in despair.  The puddle was so beautiful, so pristine, so immaculate; the way it playfully reflected sunlight, how the ripples tossed the little orange leaf around…

As I walked to my car to continue with my now dreary depressed life, I felt something hit my head.  I looked up, only to catch a raindrop on my cheek.  It began to drizzle, and then it began to shower. Rain. Rain drops!  I glanced back to where the puddle had been, and saw that it was reforming.  Again, the drops were defying all odds and making their way to that spot on my driveway. 

I turned back to my car and got in. As I sat down and closed the door, I found myself staring back at the puddle.  I turned the key and started the car.  Slowly, a small smile formed between my lips.  I drove away, thinking that things aren’t so bad.