I went to a funeral today for a man who personified "true religion."
He was known for volunteering at a number of mission outreaches since his retirement about five years ago. However, that's not his lasting legacy. When he was in his late 50s, he and his wife adopted her niece and nephew, who were in a neglectful situation, and reared these two children as his own. Late 50s is not a time of life when many men are willing to take on a four year old and a seven year old. For sixteen years he poured his life and his resources into those two children. The grown girl is married to a youth pastor. The young man is in college. Last night in the receiving line the young man glanced at the casket and said to me "I shouldn't be here now. I should be a statistic." He is full of gratitude.
As the man's wife also told me last night, "That's two starfish that made it back."
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While walking along a beach, an elderly gentleman saw someone in the distance leaning down, picking something up and throwing it into the ocean.
As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, picking up starfish one by one and tossing each one gently back into the water.
He came closer still and called out, "Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?"
The young man paused, looked up, and replied "Throwing starfish into the ocean."
The old man smiled, and said, "I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?"
To this, the young man replied, "The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in, they'll die."
Upon hearing this, the elderly observer commented, "But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference!"
The young man listened politely. Then he bent down, picked up another starfish, threw it into the back into the ocean past the breaking waves and said, "It made a difference for that one."
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This story has been circulated around the web in many versions, usually with no mention of author. It is said to be paraphrased from "The Star Thrower" by Loren Eiseley, 1907 - 1977.
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