The Starfish
Literary Works
It was still early, the mist had not yet cleared from the sea. In
the distance a solitary figure stood throwing objects out over the water.
Walking along the debris-strewn beach, I looked at the masses of
starfish scattered everywhere. The tide had thrown them in, stranding
them on the beach. As the sun rose higher, they would soon perish.
Approaching the stranger, I could see that it was the starfish he was
picking up and returning to the sea.
Our eyes met.
"Do you really think you can help? There are millions of starfish on
this beach. You can help so few. Does it really make a difference?
Does it matter?"
He reached down and picked up another starfish, looking at it intently.
"Oh yes," he replied.
"It matters to this one."
