A Bag of Leaves

When my aunt's granddaughter Mary was visiting Indiana from Florida one Autumn, the situation was bittersweet. It had been the first time my aunt ever met her precocious grandchild, and knowing that Mary would soon be leaving to go back home was emotionally draining.The little girl was three years old, and curious about everything. So, it was natural for her to be shocked that the trees lost their leaves in the fall after exploding into so many colors. My aunt lived in a small cabin in the woods, a place that looked magical in Autumn.

Mary got an idea immediately. She decided that she would gather up the beautiful leaves to take back home and show her daddy who had been unable to make the trip. My aunt helped her pick several. There were beautiful sassafrass mittens in red and orange, maples and tulip in shades of gold, ruddy oak leaves, and plenty of variations from the many trees growing around the house. They preserved the leaves in sillica gel, and Mary took them home with her in a gallon zip loc bag.

That Christmas, a package from Mary arrived in the mail. It was a small box containing two items: one macaroni necklace painted gold, and one bag of fall leaves. My aunt was surprised but a small note from her daughter revealed the Mary was worried that the leaves needed to come back to the woods. As she prepared the package of gifts to send back, my aunt included the bag of leaves and assured Mary that the leaves could stay with her. Mary was delighted.

The next spring, my aunt had a storm that took the oak tree. She told her daughter how disappointed she was to lose the tree, but that she was very happy that it didn't hit the house. Four days later, Mary's leaves made it back to Indiana. Mary explained that if my aunt took the oak leaf, and she wasn't sure which one it was, she could remember the lost tree. My aunt took one of the leaves and put it in a frame with a picture Mary had drawn of the tree that had now fallen. The rest of the leaves were returned to Mary, this time with a small pendant with a tree on it called a tree of life.

In time, the bag of leaves was nearly forgotten by my aunt, but Mary kept them in a good place and took them out regularly to think about the beauty of the house in the woods. When her grandfather died, Mary came to the funeral but had to leave almost immediately after because she had to get back to school. She proudly wore her tree of life pendant, but her grandma was too sad to notice. Soon after, her grandma got very sick and it was decided that she would move in with Mary's family in Florida.

A few years after settling in to her new home, my aunt was feeling sad one Thanksgiving. She was homesick for Indiana. She thought about the woods where she had spent her childhood playing in the creek and climbing trees. She mentioned how beautiful the trees looked in the fall, her favorite season, and was saddened that the new owners of her house had cut out many of them.

That Christmas, there was a special gift from Mary under the tree, and when she opened it, my aunt began to cry. It was a bag of leaves. . .