Updown
193 words
I’m at the bottom, on my bottom.
I was at the top, on my bike.
Learning to ride is hard.
Hitting the ground is hard too.
I fell down, crumpled, red, and wet.
Dad says I’m like a leaf that way. “Just like Fall,” he says, eyebrows up.
“But in Fall, leaves fall down and never get back up,” I say, eyes turned down. “Just falling in useless piles.”
“Is that so?” Dad stoops down, picks up some soil from the yard. “Leaves fall hard, but work hard too.”
He waits, smile pointing up, then says, “Updown.”
“I know,” I say, not liking that I know.
[Narration] Trees use energy to grow leaves.
Leaves return to the soil as they fall down.
Tree roots draw them up again through the soil to make new leaves. To grow.
To grow, they have to lose something. Getting bigger and stronger through falling.
I breathe deep. “No up without down,” I say.
Dad reaches down, grabs my hand. “And no going down without getting up.”
I’m off my bottom.
On top of the bike.
“Updown,” I say, smile turning up.
Leaves make way for my wheels.
Fall- Credit: Julia Solonina / Unsplash
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