As the sun rose, my wife and I walked along a beach against the backdrop of an army of trucks dumping toxic waste.
She looked down as the rhythmic tide washed up a starfish. “You remember the story of returning the starfish to the ocean, don’t you?” she whispered to me. “It’s not about changing the world, it’s about making a difference.”
She stopped and reached down. “Wait a moment.” I took a step forward and swiftly crushed the starfish with the weight of my body and soul.
“The ocean is polluted, its life terminal. The starfish was in agony and there is no cure.”
Don’t just make a difference. Make a meaningful difference. Even when it’s difficult.
She looked down as the rhythmic tide washed up a starfish. “You remember the story of returning the starfish to the ocean, don’t you?” she whispered to me. “It’s not about changing the world, it’s about making a difference.”
She stopped and reached down. “Wait a moment.” I took a step forward and swiftly crushed the starfish with the weight of my body and soul.
“The ocean is polluted, its life terminal. The starfish was in agony and there is no cure.”
Don’t just make a difference. Make a meaningful difference. Even when it’s difficult.
