It’s Friday, the day when I join up with some amazing writer-friends to write like we’re kids again – freely and without overanalyzing. Want to play along? Go to http://www.lisajobaker.com for all the details.
This world is so big it can make us feel really, really small. How could my one corner of the world possibly affect anyone else? How is what I’m doing important in any way? Why bother? Do you ever hear those words murmuring in the corners of your mind? I do.
And yet. I see how it matters to one child that I cut the crusts off her sandwich at lunchtime. And I see how it matters to another that I look, really look, when she wants to show me a new trick. The small things matter. They show we care.
I think about how a stone is so small, but when I throw it into the lake, there are countless ripples to mark its entry point. It doesn’t look like it would matter but looks can be deceiving and there is someone out there who wants us to be deceived into thinking WE don’t matter, our words don’t matter, our stories don’t matter. We throw our words out into the world and we don’t always see the ripples but they’re there.
And then I think about the starfish story. You’ve probably heard it. There’s a boy walking along a beach strewn with starfish washed up on the shore, and he’s picking them up and throwing them back in. An old man tells him he’ll never make a difference because there’s no way he can throw them all back in, so why bother? The boy picks up a starfish, throws it, and says, “I made a difference to this one.”