The Little Guy

I was sitting on the edge of our lawn, watching the kids play.

It was a gorgeous day.  The sun was leaning to the West, playing peek-a-boo through the trees.  All the Big things in life seemed, for a moment, to be at peace.

The toe of my shoe kicked a rock in our gravel driveway, and suddenly I caught my breath.

Our driveway is at least a mile long – it is made up of millions of rocks, none of which I’ve ever taken time to consider as an individual.  Those rocks serve a purpose for me, but only if they are together, laid evenly over dirt.

Under the lone rock was a tiny bug.  Minuscule, really.  Had I not taken a moment to focus my eyes, I would never have seen it.  My toe, so small in the grand scheme of things, moved an entire mountain, from the bug’s perspective.

It got me thinking about how, sometimes in the hustle and bustle of daily life, I don’t take time to truly focus on the people I interact with.  If I paid a little more attention, maybe I would notice the little things going on in their lives, the things that may seem like the smallest of pebbles to me, but are, in fact, gigantic mountains to them.

How hard it is to move a mountain when it is looming above.  How easy it is to kick a pebble with the toe of my shoe.

Today, I saw a disheveled man sitting on the curb outside of a convenience store.  Despite the heat, he wore a heavy coat and next to him sat a frayed duffel bag filled to the brim.  I can only assume that everything he owned was sitting there with him.  He was staring at the ground, looking forlorn. 

I walked over to him and handed him my lunch, with a five dollar bill tucked inside. 

I moved his mountain.