Laburnums

I had no strength to control my mood; didn’t know what to do to make my heart’s stuff right. So then I took a walk up the hill to find some cheeriness. I saw a child holding a black pot and pouring some water down on his Laburnums. I got confused. How could he got his Laburnums grow in contrast? They grew beautifully with different yellow intensities. But then they couldn’t grow up together, for the pot space was made only for single Laburnum. The child was full of anguish. He knew he couldn’t keep all his Laburnums alive. He had to do something. He chose the brightest one to survive in his pot and pulled out the other ones. What an ironic I thought. One by one, the Laburnums fell down to the ground. I couldn’t understand why that child had no need to replant them all even on the ground he stepped on. Were they too bad to live a longer life? That walk showed me what life was like. Life was a competition which sometimes seemed cruel and uneven. We could fight for our own goodness or we might live defenselessly like a myrmidon, or we might have destined for it.

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