The Stream

I went for a stroll along the stream with the ghost of Mother Teresa.

I asked her what she was thinking about.

The ghost of Mother Teresa said, “I was noticing the leaf moving swiftly on the current, smashing into rocks, getting pulled under water, tangling up in a stick, being torn, and then continuing on in pieces.”

I asked if that meant I should flow with what life brings me.

The ghost of Mother Teresa said, “No, I wished you were that leaf.”