The pond sat on the corner piece of property where there was a very busy highway. I remember when it was time to "bring the bread-bag"'(bread that was saved from the ends of loaves and bread leftover from meals) for the short trip to the pond. I also remember climbing to my knees in the back seat of our car to catch a glimpse of our "bread recipients" as we arrived. There seemed to be something wondrously elegant, yet peaceful, about how a Swan was able move over the water.
As a child, I was excited and anticipated visiting the beautiful, huge, birds, who also seemed to welcome our visits! Because of their size and sometimes overwhelming approach, I was glad when my father stepped in the help me extend a gift of bread to a fast approaching hungry pilgrim! I also remember that their peaceful demeanor changed into chaotic free-for-all once they discovered the available food.
When, the last morsel of the free gift was gone, the Swans peacefully slide back into the water, performed a few appreciative nearby laps on what appeared to be a shimmering dance floor, then retreated to the far end of the pond.
In life, this little story could serve as a reflection of human nature, a teaching moment! In a little while, as humanitarians we will be going to "feed the Swans", beautiful people, who's human nature may be inclined to reflect chaotic, self-centered and/or a myriad of offensive or defensive negative characteristics. We may find a few who are genuinely thankful!.
I remember going to the edge of the water to watch as the Swans swam into the distance. Just before my parents called for me to climb into the car, I remember looking into the water and viewing my own reflection and that of my father standing above me .
Whatever the case, as humanitarians our focus must remain objective in the midst of our mission to love and serve. Who do we see as we peer into the water? Who do I see as I peer into the water?