My entry for the 2020 #FallWritingFrenzy
Hosted by Kaitlyn Sanchez @KaitlynLeann17 and Lydia Lukidis @LydiaLukidis
Leah's Leaf
by Anita Crawford Clark
Leah’s mama says the last leaf holds magic.
But this one hung on tight.
The days turned colder.
Autumn neared its end.
Leah watched.
Leah waited.
Leah wondered.
SWOOSH.
The wind whirled,
the tree swayed,
the leaf stayed.
SWOOSH.
Leah’s hat whisked away.
Plop. Plop. Plop.
Dark clouds loomed.
It drizzled,
the tree dripped,
the leaf dangled.
Leah raked brown leaves.
She raked yellow leaves.
She raked red and orange leaves.
And waited for the last leaf.
Not a raking leaf,
a wishing leaf.
Then one morning…
Leah looked up.
“Why the long face?” mama asked.
I missed it.
I missed the magic.
I missed the wish.”
“No, Leah,” mama said.
“My LEAF!”
Leah skipped down the hall,
pushed opened the door,
and pocked her head in.
“There’s my angel. Come in, baby.”
“I have it, grandmama.
I have the last leaf.”
“Oh, it’s beautiful, baby,” grandmama said.
“But I missed it floating down.
I missed my wish moment.”
“Your wish comes from within.
Use your imagination, child.
Close your eyes and see your leaf,
floating down and around, down and around.”
Leah closed her eyes, imagined her leaf, and whispered her wish.