GEESE

                                                            

 When I was young boy, I used to watch the geese flying overhead in the fall. I often wondered why they flew in that perfect V formation, and all at the same speed. It was years later when I found out that it was nothing more than teamwork. That each bird, except the lead bird, provided lift for the others behind them. It made the long trip much easier. The geese honk when they fly to encourage each one to do their best, and like the little engine that could, they are saying, “I know you can. I know you can.” They take turns flying the point, and when one bird drops out for any reason, two others accompany it to the ground. They leave no man behind. They mate for life. I told my son this one day, to make a point, and he said, “Well, Dad—it’s not like they are going to find a better looking one.” I had to agree with him on that, but it goes much deeper than that.

Sometimes we realize that, as humans, we are at the top of the food chain. The alpha dog, you might say. But when you look at the geese, and how they act, you realize how selfish we can be. That goose has a brain the size of a plum, and we have one the size of small melon. But somehow, in many cases, there seems to be more of a sense of caring for their friends and family, coming from that goose, than us. We don’t have to look far in the bird and animal kingdom to find other instances of this. We also don’t have to look far to find cases of not caring and neglect in our society. So why is this?

Have we evolved to a point where we became so self-centered and greedy that this virtue, of caring for each other, gets lost in the shuffle of everyday life? My dad used to tell me when I was a young man, “Always look out for number one.” It took a few years, but I discovered that “number one” was not always me. When my wife was sick and in the last months of her life, I put my life on hold to care for her. I thank God I was allowed to do that, and deem it a privilege, even though she had to “drop out of the flock” and I came down to be with her. I’m not trying to be sanctimonious here. My children were there with me, and they came down from their formation, too. It was our job, our duty, and it happens every day in our society. But if you look at the people abandoned in nursing homes, and the lost and neglected children in our society, all too often it doesn’t happen. Even a wolf would not abandon her pups.

Fifty some years ago I grew up in a town where we never locked our cars, or in a lot of cases, even our houses. Now we pay for security systems, and lock packages in the trunk, far from prying eyes. A few years back I had a young lady working for me in the cities, and when her shift was done late at night, I made someone else on staff walk her to her car in the parking lot. There are places in the cities you would not think about driving through at night, let alone walk. We have to always be aware of our surroundings because, like the zebras on the Serengeti, danger lurks behind every bush. Yes, even though we have cured many diseases and put a phone in every pocket; even though we have been to the moon, the deepest parts of the sea, and climbed the highest mountains, many of us still prefer to fly alone.