The Last Little

Cold Sunday morning, and I made tea. I added milk and sugar to it, tapped in cinnamon, and sat on the couch.

I read, worked, drank. The mug got lighter. Until I knew, without even looking, that there was nothing left in it.

I stood, took the mug, and went to rinse it. Lowering it into the sink, I saw that it wasn't empty. It was almost empty. A last little puddle of tea waited at the bottom of the mug.

Eh, what's the point? I thought, sponge in hand. It's finished.

Except that wasn't true. The last little puddle of tea is still tea.

Like the last little match can still start a flame. The last little seed can still become a zinnia or a birch tree. And the last little nub of a candle can still ease the darkness.

Standing over the sink, I thought that I didn't want to be the person who discounted, devalued the last little. Who forgot that volume isn't the only way to measure power.

So, I pulled the mug out of the sink. I drank the rest. And no doubt about it, that last little puddle was the strongest tea in the whole mug.

The Lightning Notes is funded by kind donors. If something here strikes you, I'd be grateful if you'd consider donating. Click to Donate!

Being ImpactfulCaitie Whelan