The Starfish
I don't know the origin of this story, but it's entirely Fourth Generation in its outlook. Whatever your business, society, culture, religion or philosophy, it's a parable with a powerful truth.
As the man took his evening stroll along the water's edge, his footsteps disappearing in the gentle wash of the ebb tide, he noticed, away in the distance, another man approaching.
Every few steps, the stranger would stop, stoop, pick something up, then fling it out into deeper water.
Intrigued, the man watched this unhurried ritual until, as they drew nearer together, he realised that the stranger was returning small starfish, marooned by the receding tide, back into the sea. Stranded starfish were such a familiar sight to the man that he barely noticed them any more. Yet here was a total stranger vainly struggling to save them.
"Why do you bother? They just wash up again as quickly as you throw them back."
The stranger paused, smiled, and replied. "It makes a difference." He bent once more to pick up yet another starfish.
"But how? There are thousands of them... look around you. You can't hope to save them all, surely? It's hopeless. What kind of difference can you really expect to make?"
The stranger turned to face the sea, his gaze following the lone starfish as it soared through the twilight to enter the welcoming, life-giving water. Turning back, he smiled and shrugged.
"It made a difference to that one."
