For a week and half I’ve blogged about just one thing: how do we make little choices for justice in our regular lives? I plan to continue the Everyday Advocate series as a twice a month (or so) segment, so the next idea will come out on Monday. Until then, a reflection…
It’s the small things. It has to be the small things, drops that eventually fill the cup, chinks in the wall that eventually break it down.
As a kid at camp they told us a story. When the night sky used to be utterly black, the animals of the earth came together, trying to remedy the darkness. They knew the light was available, somehow, but couldn’t get it to stay with them beyond the day. Their plan was to find a way to either break through or tear down the night sky, revealing the light they were certain was hiding behind it.
The rhino suggested charging the sky and tearing it with his horn, but couldn’t reach. The giraffe offered to stretch its neck and pull it down, but even standing atop the elephant, couldn’t reach. All the big, strong animals made their suggestions, but their might and height weren’t enough.
Finally the hummingbird stepped in. “I think I can help,” he said, and they laughed. Undeterred, the hummingbird flew up to the night sky and poked a hole in it with his beak.
He poked a second hole, and a third.
Another, another, another.
The hummingbird poked little holes until he could do it no more. When he rejoined the animals, utterly spent, they looked up and saw the stars.
Glimmers of light in the darkness. Small, but beautiful. And the darkness could not cover them.
We move, undeterred, towards injustice and we do the little things. They create beautiful bits of light in this dark world, and no matter how small they are, they will not be overcome.