Almost everyone in the world has seen dewdrops on the grass. Those sparkling spheres which make fields shine with light reflecting off facets of jewels. It is a fleeting thing, a gift from dawn, recalled by a jealous noonday sun.
They are nothing more than water droplets anyway. Pretty but unnecessary, like the changing colors of the trees’ leaves in autumn…
My teacher looks up from reading my reflections on the dew. Her eyes, all-seeing, never revealing her thoughts, behind glasses as thick as the bottom of mason jars used for canning.
“Is that so?” Her question short, but I know not easy to answer.
“Is what so?” I have no idea where she’s paused in reading or what has caught her attention. Other students still try to interpret her expressions. I do not. Asking is far simpler and more efficient.
“That the dewdrops are merely water beads.” She looks at me and asks, “Is that what you believe?”
“Of course. It’s been proven.”
“Ah. Yes, proof is good. So different than belief.”
I frown, sensing I am stepping into a trap, but not sure what I can do. My heart is pounding and my ears begin to ring.
“What do you think dewdrops are then?” trying to sound as philosophical as her. Answer a question with a question. Always safe.
She stands and hands back my paper as she takes off her glasses with her other hand, hanging them on the beaded chain around her neck.
“Why the multiplicity of worlds, of course. What else could they be?” Then she smiles and walks out of the room.
I look at my paper and should be happy it is marked with a passing grade. I feel failure as I walk home that night and the heat of anger. How could I be so foolish to study under her? Someone who is clearly not all together, at least not anymore.
I glare the next morning at the field covered in dew and walk over, bending low so I am a mere hair’s breadth from the dew.
I gasp and run from the field all the way to my seat in the hall. My teacher says nothing, but simply writes out the next assignment for the day. I know she knows, but will say nothing, as surely as I know I have seen a world in a drop of dew.