The other day there was a fly buzzing around in our bathroom. My first reaction was to be annoyed and swat at it, but then I remembered the scene in The Hiding Place where Corrie is locked up in solitary confinement for weeks and comes to regard the ants in the cell as her friends. She was just grateful to have a living being nearby, no matter how diminuitive. So I started to think of the fly as my companion, and it made me less annoyed.
Today, I saw the fly’s smushed body on the bathroom floor. I was sad. Just a few days ago he was happily buzzing around.
When I told David this story he admitted to me that he was the one who killed the fly. He apologized to me, saying that he didn’t know he was killing my friend. I guess I forgive him.
From Lauren:
yall are so cute.
From Bill:
Did he kill the fly before or after the Rockets lost last night?
From Scott:
I think he’s just covering for Eddie
From Rae:
I can see that happening to me and my husband, complete with the apology for killing a friend! I learned a poem as a child that went something like:
I will not crush the little and that hurries through my path
For God spent time to make him, so I shall let him pass.
Maybe that is not it exactly, but it made an impression! I can’t kill ants, and only kill flies if they are actually bothering/biting/whatever way directly interfering with me.