The moment that a water droplet is falling to the ground is a very important moment in human history. If you watch one fall, from beginning to end, you stumble upon a hidden wealth of truth contained in the brevity of that moment.

Look! One is gathering weight now, getting ready to descend.

The instant the droplet begins to fall, tomorrow's leaders of men are being educated and prepared for the task ahead. Today's leaders are trying their hardest (at least they'd better be).

A pair of lovers becomes oneflesh, somewhere.
Another pair takes a walk down a sandy shore, hand in hand. Each is the trusted keeper of the other's heart.
Another pair, older and wiser, reflects upon all the past years spent together. They are at peace.

Billy, age 7, is late for his soccer game. Cindy, age 12, is hanging by the precarious thread of her bright young intelligence, trying to win the school spelling bee. She clears her throat nervously: the 100 local people who have gathered to watch are the largest crowd she's ever been in front of. Michael, age 11, is hungry, dressed in rags, and does not care for soccer or silly words; words are not going to feed him. Instead, he's stealing fruit from the vendor who sits at the corner.

The droplet is now three inches from where it started.

One man is dying and another is born fresh, his new soul brimming with all of life's wonderful possibilities.

Somewhere, a renowned surgeon is getting ready to make a crucial incision, part of a groundbreaking new treatment that will remove a debilitating illness from the patient. A beat of sweat trickles down his forehead: one false cut will kill the patient. The patient, asleep on the operating table, is dreaming of all the things he'll finally be able to do.

On one side of the world, a man is looking through a telescope, marvelling at the infinite beauty of our universe. On the brighter side of the world, there is a man in a sunny park, throwing a Frisbee to his dog, enjoying the radiant sunshine.

One father, a stout, hardworking woodsman, is teaching his son how to properly cut a fell tree to make it into firewood. Another father, a successful CEO, is teaching his son how to run the family business honestly and efficiently, so he'll be able to take over when the time is right.

The water droplet is now a foot from the ground.

In a crowded stadium somewhere, there is a loud rock concert going on. Everyone attending is having fun--dancing, drinking, listening, living to their fullest. A few blocks away, a man is alone in an apartment cluttered with dusty records and posters hailing a long-since-gone musical era. He takes out a battered old saxophone and belts out the sweet music his grandfather once taught him in great, passionate breaths.

Somewhere in a green field, a lower-middle class family is enjoying a picnic. The food is cheap, but expertly prepared by a loving father, and expertly laid out by a loving mother. At the same time, a well-to-do family is dining at the finest restaurant in the city, smiling with contentment. Another family is starving.

Only a few inches left!

Now a man is kneeling, praying and experiencing that wonderful thing some men call God. Somewhere else, a scientist experiences the same feeling when he looks at the warm glow of a test tube. It is the promise of a successful experiment, another step in the right direction. He's on his way to achieving great things for mankind. In a small room somewhere, a man lies in a haze. Pills lie spilled and broken at the foot of his bed. He is also experiencing what some might call God; others might call it Hell.

Somewhere in a crowded city, an artist is searching far and wide, in the world and in the reaches of his own imagination, for the inspiration that will go into his next masterpiece. Somewhere in the same city, a man is playing basketball. He's winning, but barely, and only by putting forth his blood, sweat, and the Hurculean willpower known only to those with great passion to succeed. The artist, frustrated by his creative block, walks by the basketball court and glimpses the athlete--and now he knows, without a doubt, what his next piece will be.

The drop hits the ground now, exhausted. Quietly, with a faint patter, that moment in time leaves us. For a brief instant, the entirety of human experience was reflected in the clarity of the droplet. It is interesting that the very thing our lives depend on--water--contains the essence of humanity itself--it is flowing, assuming different forms all the time, yet always comprised of the same substance. Then it hits the ground and it's gone, as quickly as it came, before you've taken the time to notice it. It's here, right now, and it's beautiful if you look at it the right way. And if you missed the last one, don't worry--another one is getting heavy now, preparing to fall.

Drop"let (?), n.

A little drop; a tear.



© Webster 1913.

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