Gandalf once told me that everyone plays an important part in Middle
Earth. That had been ten years ago, just before he set sail with the other
ring-bearers. And, for ten years, I had pondered this statement with no
avail.
You see, I am an elf. A female elf, for further clarification. I was living in Rivendell and had the opportunity-a rare opportunity- to meet Gandalf just prior to his departure from Middle Earth. We happened to cross paths in a more secluded portion of forest surrounding the city. I had been sobbing, he had been searching. For what I don't know, maybe me. Regardless, he found me in a secluded grove of saplings I always retreated to when needing privacy. I did not realize there was anyone else there; my face was buried in my hands, and Gandalf made no sound as he walked towards me from behind.
"Dear girl, why do you weep?"
It was the voice of an elf I did not recognize; yet I trusted it. Turning around, I spoke,
"Kind elf, I-"
A gasp escaped my mouth, I saw the elf's face. I also said a few incoherent words amidst my sobs. Luckily, Gandalf spoke first,
"My lady, I am Gandalf the White. I was taking a final stroll through these woods when I heard your tears rustling the leaves. Are you all right?"
His eyes lightly touched my own with a sweet spell, which I believe stopped my tears~Regaining my lost composure, I replied,
"My lord, I am Minastoren-"
His eyes quietly searched my own, looking for reason, searching through my every memory and thought. Had it been anyone but he, I may have been more defensive.
Before I said another word, he simply took my hand and told me,
"Minastoren, be patient. Everyone plays an important part in Middle Earth. Your time shall come, I promise."
And with that, we returned to the city; it was a strange comfort. I should have felt nervous and awkward around this strange elf-celebrity, yet I did not. We talked the entire way back. He told me stories of the Fellowship: of the Battle of Helms' Deep, of Theoden and Grima Wormtongue, of Aragorn and Arwen. It was amazing to hear; I could not help but soak up every word.
Finally, we reached my front door. Gandalf looked at me once again the way he had in the woods. "Remember what I have told you, Minastoren, and have faith in yourself. I see that you are a wonderful elf with a wonderful life ahead of you. The world is in your hands."
We said our goodbyes, and then it was over. He left the next morning, and I was left with a powerful memory that would affect the long remaining portion of my immortal elvish life.
You see, I am an elf. A female elf, for further clarification. I was living in Rivendell and had the opportunity-a rare opportunity- to meet Gandalf just prior to his departure from Middle Earth. We happened to cross paths in a more secluded portion of forest surrounding the city. I had been sobbing, he had been searching. For what I don't know, maybe me. Regardless, he found me in a secluded grove of saplings I always retreated to when needing privacy. I did not realize there was anyone else there; my face was buried in my hands, and Gandalf made no sound as he walked towards me from behind.
"Dear girl, why do you weep?"
It was the voice of an elf I did not recognize; yet I trusted it. Turning around, I spoke,
"Kind elf, I-"
A gasp escaped my mouth, I saw the elf's face. I also said a few incoherent words amidst my sobs. Luckily, Gandalf spoke first,
"My lady, I am Gandalf the White. I was taking a final stroll through these woods when I heard your tears rustling the leaves. Are you all right?"
His eyes lightly touched my own with a sweet spell, which I believe stopped my tears~Regaining my lost composure, I replied,
"My lord, I am Minastoren-"
His eyes quietly searched my own, looking for reason, searching through my every memory and thought. Had it been anyone but he, I may have been more defensive.
Before I said another word, he simply took my hand and told me,
"Minastoren, be patient. Everyone plays an important part in Middle Earth. Your time shall come, I promise."
And with that, we returned to the city; it was a strange comfort. I should have felt nervous and awkward around this strange elf-celebrity, yet I did not. We talked the entire way back. He told me stories of the Fellowship: of the Battle of Helms' Deep, of Theoden and Grima Wormtongue, of Aragorn and Arwen. It was amazing to hear; I could not help but soak up every word.
Finally, we reached my front door. Gandalf looked at me once again the way he had in the woods. "Remember what I have told you, Minastoren, and have faith in yourself. I see that you are a wonderful elf with a wonderful life ahead of you. The world is in your hands."
We said our goodbyes, and then it was over. He left the next morning, and I was left with a powerful memory that would affect the long remaining portion of my immortal elvish life.