Our rescuer got so excited he went around to take a photo for his grandkids.
And down went the turtle.
Dropping down at the sight of a looming threat …. a 6 foot gentle giant with a camera. Things worsened quickly when the giant decided to tap the turtle more strongly on the back of his shell with his foot. My kid and I exchanged a look.
Now we were party to traumatizing this magnificent creature instead of saving him.
With that final insult, “Snappy” promptly lumbered up onto the grass in the direction of the pond and hunkered down. He looked our way as if daring us to come near him. Fearing that our foot tapping savior could not curb his enthusiasm, we declared our effort a success. I mentioned I had to run out to the store in a bit and would check to make sure he hadn’t ventured back into harm’s way again. This gave us all permission to end our rescue mission.
Mind you, not one car had careened around that corner during our dramatic interlude.
“Well that went well.” stated you know who. A bit later I headed out to the store and was alert as I fully stopped at the corner stop sign. Scanning the grass to the right, I noticed the area was totally free of that huge turtle. The reason?
He was lumbering across the street toward the woods.
As turned the corner, I watched as he settled down into his protective position – shell to the ground – right in the middle of oncoming traffic in the other direction. Wiser now, I slowly rolled past him as if he wasn’t there. Hoping I wouldn’t see him crushed on my return trip, I had a revelation.
It occurred to me that he had probably crossed that road many times before I ever met him. This certainly wasn’t his first adventure.
After all he was a mature turtle, not some tiny little thing out on his first independent stroll. He had to have some skill to have made it this far in a residential neighborhood. Perhaps I had confused my concern with his need for rescue. Now who was rolling her eyes?
I got to wondering about all the times my intent to be helpful may have actually diverted someone from their intended path.
How I made the assumption that someone needed rescuing when Life was offering them what they required in that moment.
It isn’t the first time I’ve stopped my car to turn around a turtle. Let’s just say I have a history of such behavior. Now, before I move in to help, I pause. I become curious. I wonder what Life might already be doing before I assume my role within the story.
I didn’t see Snappy on the way home, but that didn’t surprise me.
He had already taught me what I needed to know. I was grateful and wiser as a result of our encounter. I figured he had lumbered off to teach some other well meaning, silly human.
