"The Star Thrower" by Loren Eiseley

I awoke early, as I often did, just before sunrise to walk by the

ocean's edge and greet the new day. As I moved through the misty

dawn, I focused on a faint, far away motion. I saw a youth, bending

and reaching and flailing arms, dancing on the beach, no doubt in

celebration of the perfect day soon to begin.

As I approached, I sadly realized that the youth was not dancing to

the bay, but rather bending to sift through the debris left by the

night's tide, stopping now and then to pick up a starfish and then

standing, to heave it back into the sea. I asked the youth the

purpose of the effort. "The tide has washed the starfish onto the

beach and they cannot return to the sea by themselves," the youth

replied. "When the sun rises, they will die, unless I throw them back

to the sea."

As the youth explained, I surveyed the vast expanse of beach,

stretching in both directions beyond my sight. Starfish littered the

shore in numbers beyond calculation. The hopelessness of the youth's

plan became clear to me and I countered, "But there are more starfish

on this beach than you can ever save before the sun is up. Surely you

cannot expect to make a difference."

The youth paused briefly to consider my words, bent to pick up a

starfish and threw it as far as possible. Turning to me he simply

said, "I made a difference to that one."

I left the boy and went home, deep in thought of what the boy had

said. I returned to the beach and spent the rest of the day helping

the boy throw starfish in to the sea.