Lessons From The Last Leaf
“Everyone whom I allow to touch me in my weakness and help me to be faithful to my journey to God’s home will come to realize that he or she has a gift to offer that may have remained hidden for a very long time. To receive help, support, guidance, affection, and care may well be a greater call than that of giving all these things because in receiving I reveal the gift to the givers, and a new life together can begin.”—Henri Nouwen in You are the Beloved (Convergent Books 2017).
A single autumn leaf has been clinging to the wood frame of my office window for weeks. It is the first and last thing I look for as my day begins and ends. It reminds me of one of my favorite O. Henry short stories, “The Last Leaf.”
A young artist in New York’s Greenwich Village at the turn of the last century loses her will to live and succumbs to pneumonia. She watches from her window as the cold winter wind blows leaves from a tree branch growing along the side of a nearby adjacent building. She decides when the last leaf falls, she will die.
She eventually watches the last leaf miraculously remain on the tree until she regains her will to live. Later, she discovers that an older artist in her building, whose own realistic paintings rarely sell, hears her story. He spends a night in the cold and icy rain while she sleeps, painting a leaf on the wall of the building. Shortly after he paints “his masterpiece” to save her life, he also dies from the pneumonia epidemic.
Of course, the story is one of sacrifice and love for another human, reminiscent of the story of the good Samaritan. It is also a story of hope. How do we offer people the hope that they will not remain in despair? There is a promise of Easter after every Good Friday experience.
But that promise of light in the darkness can be difficult without the help of others. The darkness forgets what light is like. We see and read about this hope from others. The story of old Simeon and Anna at the temple in Jerusalem at Jesus’ presentation reminds us of the promise that the Christ Child will always come to us as we wait.
I also see this story about the use of our gifts and talents. We may think our abilities are minor compared to others, maybe even worthless. But there will be a time when what we offer is precisely what someone else needs. We will be called to use our talent at the right time when others may not be there to help.
Advent is a time to watch, wait, and pray that we will be open to offering what we consider as our “insignificant masterwork” that will make a difference in the life of another.
Joanna. joannaseibert.com