Just a Lump of Coal

A mine shaft reaches into the depths of the mountains, illuminating the gems found there. The tunnel reaches into the darkness, stretching toward the caverns of fire, and the rocks shift as they get closer to the furnace.

If a man were walking into the depths he would see nothing. He would shine his light on the walls and they would be covered with dirt. He would investigate the rocks, and although he may see the shimmer produced by the pressure, he would not understand its meaning...

He may wander in and find a lump of coal sitting by the entrance. He may pick it up and examine it. He may throw it back as useless. But I hear the lump of coal as she falls. I hear her cries as she once more clamors to the ground.

Is this all she is good for? Is she only ever going to be examined and thrown back to the floor?

If she had a mirror she would examine herself. She would look into the glass and watch her reflection as she rotated. She would turn and look at her front, her sides, her back. She would wonder. She would shudder with the fear that she was not good enough. All she is is a lump of coal. She was built for the fire, built to be thrown into the furnace, but she knows there is a better life. She knows she wants more and she knows she was made for more.

As she lies down the tears come to her eyes. She is not good enough to be noticed, but she desperately wants to be seen. She wants to be seen as more than she is, but she is just a lump of coal.

But she doesn't know that each time she is thrown to the ground, the molecules within her rearrange. Every time she is picked up and discarded, her heart realigns and becomes orderly. She sees only the outside as she looks at the glass faces of her friends, but her inside is hardening.

Eventually she is kicked behind another rock and forgotten. She frets about the future as she feels the rocks above her sliding down. They slide down and begin to crush her, the forgotten lump of coal crushed carelessly and without thought.

She despairs.

There is nothing. The pain is too much. The end has come and she will never be beautiful. She will never be good enough to be loved. She will always be a lump of coal.

The rocks crush her and push her deep into the earth. They push her toward the fire and she feels the heat as it comes. It gains in strength as she nears and she clings to the hope that maybe, just maybe, there is a thread of mercy remaining for her. Maybe the mercy will find her before it is too late, but she already thinks it is too late.

Just as the heat seems unbearable it begins to subside. The pain becomes less as the fire withdraws. She looks around and sees that every rock around her has transformed into a perfect sheet of glass, but she is too embarrassed to look at them. She knows what she is and cannot face the beauty of the other rocks. She hides her face.

But a miner comes along. He comes along with his mattock and breaks away the rocks around her. She knows he must be taking them all, and she knows she will be left behind. But he picks her up. He picks her up and examines her, holding her up to the light of his lantern and she sees light reflecting onto the walls of the cave. He puts her in his sack and walks out into this forest I live in, calling for his friends to come and see.