Yesterday before prayer meeting in the morning, a couple of us were waiting around outside the sanctuary and we saw the fastest slug in the world. He wasn't that fast at all, but for a slug, he was really moving. His long body undulated in perfectly timed waves as his antennae stretched forward over his head in an expression of sheer speed and determination. We watched him go and cheered him on as he covered at least three inches in under a minute. It was so impressive and uplifting to us that we started steering kids around him to make sure it had time enough to get across the sidewalk to the bushes and safety. Before long, the time for our meeting came, and we were forced to leave him to his own defenses. We hoped he wouldn't get run over by a pack of wild kids running to class, or some father in steel-toed boots, and even promised to come back out quickly.
Sadly, when we came back out, as soon as we could, the slug was no more. His mangled slug body lay about two-thirds of the way across the sidewalk, a glistening trail of slime showing his astonishing progress. We all stopped for a moment of silence for the friend who had taught us so much about the power of conviction and the dangers of living with no form of skeletal system at all. I write this today so that the memory of this courageous member of the universe will live on. I salute you Sammie Slug (we named him), we may never see your kind again.
No comments:
Post a Comment