The Last Leaf, January 3, 2024, St. Mark’s Episcopal Church, 12-step Eucharist, 5:30 pm. John 1:1-18.
“What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”
A single autumn leaf has been clinging to the wood frame of my office window for weeks. It is the first and last thing I look for as my day begins and ends. It reminds me of one of my favorite O. Henry short stories, “The Last Leaf.” A young artist in New York’s Greenwich Village at the turn of the last century loses her will to live and succumbs to pneumonia. She watches from her window as the cold winter wind blows leaves from a tree branch growing along the side of a nearby adjacent building. She decides when the last leaf falls, she will die. Miraculously, the last leaf remains on the tree until she regains her will to live. Later, she discovers that an older artist in her building, whose own realistic paintings rarely sold, heard her story. He spends a night out in the cold while she sleeps, painting a leaf on the wall of the building. Shortly after he paints “his insignificant masterpiece” to save her life, he dies from the pneumonia epidemic.
Of course, the story is one of sacrifice of love for another human, reminiscent of the story of the good Samaritan. It is also a story of hope. How do we offer people that they will not remain in despair? There is a promise of Easter after every Good Friday experience. But that promise of light in the darkness can be challenging to see without the help of others. The darkness forgets what light is like. We see and read about this hope from others. The story of old Simeon and Anna at the temple in Jerusalem at Jesus’ presentation reminds us of the promise that the Christ Child will always come to us.
This story is also about using our gifts and talents. We may think our abilities are minor compared to others, maybe even worthless. But there will be a time when what we have to offer is more significant than any other can offer. We will be called to use our talent at the right time when no one else will be there to help.
Steven Charleston writes, “We have been chosen to be who we are. Not as an accident. Not as an existence without purpose. But as a self-aware soul brought to life by a Spirit who knows our name. We have a mission to carry out, a message to send, a blessing to bestow. We are the only ones who can live this life. We are entrusted with a corner of the universe. We are a stakeholder in creation, selected for a task only we can complete.”
Give thanks today for someone who brought you out of darkness into light in 12-step recovery. Give thanks for those who showed you hope. Give thanks for those who brought you the message of recovery that now lives in you.
Consider that this new year is a time to share the gift of recovery you have received. Watch, wait, and pray that we will be open to offering the gift to others./ The gifts we may consider as our “insignificant masterwork” may soon make a difference in the life of another. Joanna. joannaseibert.com