I Don't Know

Posted to Facebook Aug. 1st.
One summer, as a very young girl, I was playing in the garden and came across a worm.  I felt so bad for it, that it was doomed to an existence in the dark, cold, suffocating dirt.  I could not imagine a more miserable life.

I wanted to help it, give it the opportunity to experience all that I enjoy; open air, sunshine, and warmth.  I did not think I would be able to just walk away and leave it there to suffer in the cold and dark.  So, I overturned a bucket in the sunshine and set the worm on top of it so that it too could revel in all that is good about a warm summer day.  I then went on with my day feeling good about myself because I had helped another creature.

A couple hours later I came to check on my new friend, the one I had rescued, and there it laid . . . on top of the bucket . . . shrivelled and dead.  I was in disbelief, and so upset.  How could that be?  I had done for it what I thought it would like, what was best for it, what I preferred, and what I had ended up doing was killing it.  Out of my best intentions I had created the exact opposite of what I wanted.

I learned that day that I don't know what is best for others.  And even when I am sure I know, I don't know.  And even when I cannot fathom why they may prefer what I abhor, I still don't know.