The Lost Little Puzzle Piece

Born from a small, closed-off box buried deep in the board game cupboard,

The little puzzle piece was raised in darkness.

Her home was crowded with nine hundred and ninety-nine of her siblings,

So she spent her days either laying atop her family and gazing restlessly at the blackness above her

Or suffocating beneath the weight of the other puzzle pieces who had been fortunate enough to have been cleaned up last.

The best days of all, though, were when the walnut doors of the cupboard would creak open, and the little puzzle piece's box would be selected for play.

A child would recklessly dump the box's innards onto a clean table,

And suddenly all of the puzzle pieces would come alive.

It was like a family reunion,

Like none of them had seen each other in years despite the fact that they were always stacked atop each other day after day.

The little puzzle piece would tumble out of the box joyously

And make as much noise as she could to get the child to notice her,

To get them to select her as the next logical piece to the puzzle.

She would leap towards the child's stubby fingers,

Desperate for the chance to be put to the test.

She always tried her hardest but,

Despite her best efforts,

She was never chosen to fit into the puzzle.

She was a center piece,

Not one of the well-liked edge pieces.

She wasn't useful;

She was just bothersome.

The puzzle never seemed to keep the child's attention for long,

So the little puzzle piece was never given her chance to shine.

Each time she was spilled out on that table, though,

She would force herself into spaces between her brothers and sisters,

Knowing she wouldn't fit but demanding herself to do so.

She wasn't important,

But maybe she could pretend.

It was this that caused her downfall.

One rainy Sunday afternoon,

The child rummaged through the cupboard

And pulled out the little puzzle piece's box.

Once again, they poured the box's contents onto the table and began connecting the corresponding pieces.

Once again, the little puzzle piece squashed herself in between her family members and prayed she would please the child's wishes.

This time, though, the little puzzle piece pushed herself too far,

And she flung out of the gap she squeezed herself into, landing hard on the rough carpet below.

She was surrounded by unknown territory:

Dust bunnies,

Crumbs of past meals,

And even the deceased bodies of her forgotten brethren.

She was lost,

And no one could save her--

Not even herself.

Days passed and the little puzzle piece sat beside the wooden table leg,

Unseen by any members of the child's family.

She thought to herself that this fate is what she deserved.

She must not have tried hard enough,

Must not have been good enough.

She must have been too scared to go as far as she should have. She should have done whatever was needed so she could be noticed and do what she was built for.

Her cowardice had led her to this stinking shag carpet,

And this was where she would die.

Soon, the little puzzle piece stopped looking up at the gigantic world above her,

Stopped praying that someone would see she needed help.

It was obvious--

No one cared.

Why should she?

Right as the little puzzle piece began to doubt herself, something amazing happened.

It was a day like any other,

Full of boredom and despair and hopelessness,

When suddenly a man crouched down on the carpet and regarded the little puzzle piece with a strange sense of interest.

Crisp blue eyes stared her down.

Someone had noticed her.

Someone had proven her existence.

In this moment, though, she stood still.

Jaded.

Soon, the man was yelling in excitement,

And little time passed before the child who the little puzzle piece knew so well ran into the room and sat beside the man.

Together, they gazed upon the little puzzle piece's beauty

And raised her up to eye-level.

They examined her cardboard skin and smiled.

"That's the missing piece!" the child said.

"The pretty flower!"

The little puzzle piece drew back in surprise.

A flower?

That's what was on her puzzle piece?

If she had known all this time she was carrying a beautiful flower on her back,

She never would have doubted herself.

She would have climbed right back up to that table and shown the child just how amazing she really was.

Apparently the man and the child knew her worth even before she did.

The man held her in his palm

And transported her back to the table where she had fallen off so long ago.

All of her brothers and sisters were there too.

It appeared as though the puzzle was almost complete,

Save for one open spot.

The little puzzle piece bounded towards the seat reserved just for her

And watched happily as the child giggled with satisfaction.

Little did the lost puzzle piece know,

The child hung the completed puzzle on their bedroom wall

And grinned at it each morning when they woke up,

Particularly at the gorgeous flower blooming in the lower right hand corner.