(From the perspective of a bench)
“I’m old, and my frame is starting to pull apart. I’m weighed down by the memories that I’ve been holding for so many years. I sit in a little green clearing in the woods, not far from a big city. It is peaceful here, and I’ve enjoyed living out my years in the forest.
My mind wanders to my people, a man and a woman who always came to visit me, but they haven’t come in a while. I remember the first time they wandered into my clearing. They were young and best friends. They would sit on me for hours, enjoying each other’s presence, talking about anything and everything. They talked about school, friendships and the future. That must have been 11 years ago. They kept coming back, almost every day. Every time they came back, they sat a little closer together. One day, while they were talking, the boy put his arm around the girl and she looked up at him with adoring eyes. I could sense the emotional moment that was taking place. Their conversation flowed freely for the rest of the evening.
As the years passed, they never stopped coming. Their conversation moved on to other topics, such as college, money and family issues. As tough as it was for them, they always made time for each other and valued that time.
I remember a strange time when they came into the clearing but didn’t sit on me. Instead, the man (he was no longer a boy) took her hand and led her to the middle of the clearing. He knelt in a patch of sunshine with the birds chirping above in the trees and a gentle breeze that smelled of spring rippling through their hair; then he looked up at her and spoke in low tones. He pulled out a little box and opened it, and the woman’s hands flew to her mouth. She nodded her head and then began to cry. The man stood up and took her in his arms, treasuring their closeness and capturing this moment in his mind. When they separated, their faces were lit with the light only deep love could produce. He slipped a sparkling band of gold on her hand and led her out of the clearing into the woods.
They still came every day for the next 8 months and then stopped for about two weeks. When they finally returned, they were so happy, and their conversation consisted of reliving the past wedding and honeymoon. They no longer came every day, but they never missed more than 3 days at a time.
After a while, I noticed the woman was changing. Her belly was growing, and then conversations shifted to dreaming of a baby, talking about the fears and looking forward to the joys of parenting.
One day, they brought another person. She was tiny, wrapped in a cozy blanket in her mother’s arms. They sat together for a little while, talking about how their lives had changed.
As more years passed, they came less and less, but they kept bringing more people.
The last time I remember them coming, the girl they brought first was 6; she was running around with her two sisters and two brothers. The man and woman were talking about a move, a new job and a new city. As they were leaving, they stood and looked at me, seeking comfort in each other’s arms. The woman was crying. They finally walked away, and I never saw them again.
I think about them every day and imagine how they are doing now. They always brought me joy and made me feel special. I have the feeling I was an important part of their story. I wonder how they would have been different if I had never been built.”
