This morning was beautiful outside, and apparently one very small visitor agreed. A little toad came hopping out of the grass and made its way toward the house, eventually finding itself on the patio. It wasn’t invited exactly, but around here that has never seemed to stop anyone.
Piper and Harper noticed immediately. They were curious, of course, and slowly followed behind as the toad continued its journey. But neither of them decided to “dog” the situation; no chasing, pouncing, barking, or trying to herd our visitor somewhere it had no intention of going.
They simply followed and watched.
And then there was Brian.
He reached down and carefully picked up our very small visitor, holding it gently in his hands. There was no hurry and no fuss, just Brian doing what Brian does when something smaller than him might need a little help. He carried the toad off the patio, over the fence, and back toward the grass, reminding it that perhaps staying on that side would be safer.
I know the toad couldn’t understand him. I also know that didn’t matter.
Sometimes the gentleness of Brian amazes me. This morning, the gentleness of our dogs did too. All three of them had the ability to frighten or harm something considerably smaller and more vulnerable than themselves, and instead there was curiosity, patience, and care.
Maybe gentleness isn’t always something grand enough that we recognize it when we see it. Sometimes it is a pair of hands wrapped carefully around a tiny toad. Sometimes it is two dogs following behind without giving chase.
And sometimes it is simply noticing that something has wandered into a place where it may not be safe and helping it find its way back.
This morning, gentleness hopped onto our patio.
And for a few minutes, we got to watch what happened when everyone chose to meet it gently.
Waypoint: Gentleness
Knowing you have the power to disturb something, and choosing instead to handle it with care.
Leave a Reply