As I was out walking today, I noticed a little abandoned stuffed squirrel by the side of the road. It had its right front and rear paws torn off, along with a torn ear. I certainly could not just leave it there, so naturally I picked it up and carried it the remaining two miles to my house. I stitched up its holes, gave it a ride in my washer and dryer, and brought it to my desk to live. The question is, why would I pick up some torn, dirty, discarded stuffed animal from the side of the road and take it home, repair and clean it up, and decide to keep it?
I don't really know, except that I couldn't just leave it there. I know it's inanimate, but maybe it will help me remember the discarded things that are real. The real things that lay beside the road until somebody picks them up and cares. The real things who are hurt or ignored or passed by because nobody thinks they're worth it. The real things that nobody will notice except me. The real things that are placed in my path because I am the one who can help them. The real things who need me, my talents, and my time.
Sure, it's just a stuffed animal. But if it wasn't supposed to mean anything, then why was it on my walk today?
I don't really know, except that I couldn't just leave it there. I know it's inanimate, but maybe it will help me remember the discarded things that are real. The real things that lay beside the road until somebody picks them up and cares. The real things who are hurt or ignored or passed by because nobody thinks they're worth it. The real things that nobody will notice except me. The real things that are placed in my path because I am the one who can help them. The real things who need me, my talents, and my time.
Sure, it's just a stuffed animal. But if it wasn't supposed to mean anything, then why was it on my walk today?
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