The Ant and the Feather

By the walkway in front of the house are many bugs, of different shapes and sizes. Each day, they move to and from their homes, completing tasks to sustain their lives. And today, I witnessed the most amazing miracle.

I saw an ant; a small, red ant. He was walking backwards across the walkway, with a feather in his mouth. I watched him as he pulled it, thinking of the determination he must have had. I pictured him walking along as usual but this time, happening upon a feather. I picture him with his hand on his chin, staring at the glorious object, thinking "Hm. I really bet this will come in handy back at the hill." By himself, he begins his journey.

I watch as he pulls it along, rather successfully, across the concrete desert and up the dirt mountain, through the jungle of grass. Eventually, however, the ant gives up, asserting the feather is too much for the long haul home. He cuts his loses and heads back without the treasure.

I'm not upset he let go of the feather. In fact, I'm impressed he made it as long as he did. Sometimes, that's the choice we have to make. We're always afraid to give up. It doesn't mean we're weak. It may mean the monster of a task that is set before us is not as we intended. It may not be as beneficial as we once believed. Maybe we shouldn't be as afraid of moving on. Maybe we should be proud of the bravery we show in trying anything out of the ordinary at all.

Some things are bigger than we originally think. Some things we carry for no other reason but to prove ourselves. Sometimes we realize, "What does an ant hill need a feather for anyway?" The ant was small; the feather was much larger. The ant was determined; the feather was a burden. The ant was wise; the feather remained as it was before it met the ant. But I choose to believe the ant will be forever changed by his little outburst of enthusiasm and his choice not to admit defeat but to weigh the benefits and chose to return to his hill happily.