The Wheelbarrow

The little wheelbarrow was rusting life away at a faster pace from being exposed to the elements of the earth: sun, air and water. Life can be a paradoxical journey.

It all began 51 months ago.

It had been kept in the garden shed for a very long time. When the door to the garden shed opened and flooded the shed with the glaring sunlight, the wheelbarrow flinched in pain. It had been kept and was unused for such a long time that it had forgotten what it felt like to be bathed in sunlight. But instead of warmth, a stinging pain seared the wheelbarrow.

The owner brought the wheelbarrow into the courtyard and scraped the old paint and rust off its body. It hurt the wheelbarrow real bad but it had to be done. If the owner had just painted new paint over the rust and old paint, it would not last. It was off with the old and on with the new. Even its wheels were oiled.

The wheelbarrow was used daily to cart earth, pots, manure, compost, even new born kittens and puppies, the fruit of the garden and every other imaginable thing under the sun. It was exposed to all the elements of the earth everyday: the sun scorched, the rain drenched and the air breathed over it.

The thing with being exposed to all the elements of the earth, it caused the wheelbarrow to rust all over again at a faster pace.

One quiet evening, the wheelbarrow sat under the porch and watched the pouring rain with the booming thunder and flashing lightning. Mud and water splashed on the wheelbarrow. It then noticed that certain parts of its paint were peeling off. It also noticed that its wheels were squeaking again.

But the wheelbarrow realised that without the sun, water and air, life would be confined in the garden shed with cobwebs and spiders as its companions. It would definitely rust at a slower pace. But it would not have met the different plants that it carried and hear their different stories of life, smell the horrifying manure, feel the worms and ants (and every other bug) crawl over it while it ferried the dirt to another part of the garden, experience the warmth of the morning sun or the cooling effect of the rain, see the leaves rustle as the result of the wind or even experience the force of the gale that sweeps across the garden occasionally.

And that is the paradoxical journey called Life.