She sits at the edge of the pond with her bent legs pulled up tight under her chin. Her left arm is wrapped around those knobby knees, while her right hand tinkers with the stones strewn about her feet. She tosses them, over and over into the air, and into the tall grass growing up out of the water's edge. The locusts are singing, and she ponders life.
A dragonfly lands on her big toe, and she tries to reach for her camera without interrupting his curiosity, but he zips away to a safer spot on a twig floating in the green, stagnant water. He seems to watch her as she pushes the stones around and ponders and strains to see into her future.
Can she really make a difference? Can one person who scribbles out words in notebooks, change anything? Is she part of God's provision to parched and weary souls? What she has to say - will it move anyone? Her mind wanders and wonders.
She picks up some stones and flings them further, and the dragonfly still stares and perhaps wonders if one will hit too close. She rises to leave and decides to toss one final stone into the water. She's hoping to make a big splash, but small stones don't make big splashes. The stone drops in the pool, and the movement of the water carries the dragonfly and his branch away on a small wave. She realizes in that moment that even small stones cause ripples and that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't called to make a big splash. She watches as the ripple she's caused moves on and on.