I recently read a great story about endurance and not giving up even when there appears to be no hope. The story has a powerful message. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did.
One night, two frogs left the safety of their swamp and ventured into a nearby farm to explore. They discovered the dairy barn and hopping around as frogs do they jumped into a pail half full with cream.
At first they were thrilled. They had never tasted anything so delicious. They drank and drank. Soon they were both full-bellied and getting just a bit sleepy. “Time to get out of here and head back to the swamp for some shut-eye,” burped the first frog.
But there was a problem. They had no trouble hopping into the pail, but they could not hop out of the pail for the sides were slippery and they could not climb them. They had nothing for their little foggy feet to get traction with so they could hop out.
The awful reality dawned on them: they were trapped. Frantic, they began to thrash about, their little frog feet scrabbling for a foothold on the slippery curve of the pail’s edge. Finally, the second frog cried out, “It is no use! We are doomed, my brother! Let us save what dignity we have left and die here like frogs, with our eyes facing our homeland!”
The first frog cried out to stop him. “No! We should never give up. Swim on and pray for a miracle.” The second frog eyed his brother sadly and said, “There are no miracles in the life of a frog, brother. Farewell.” And so saying, he turned his face in the direction of the swamp, gave a sigh, and slowly sank out of sight.
The first frog refused to give up. He continue to swim. He swam and he swam in ridiculous, pointless, useless, futile circles, hoping against hope for a miracle. Fired by adrenaline, he paddled mightily….yet his brother’s dying words clutched at his thoughts, even more insidious than the growing fatigue that tugged at his weakening muscles. Was my brother right?, he thought desperately. Am I a fool? Are there no miracles in the life of a frog?
Finally, he could swim no more…and with a great cry of anguish, he stopped paddling and let go, ready at last to face his fate like a frog. But something odd then happened…or rather, didn’t happen. He didn’t sink. He just sat exactly where he was. Ever so tentatively, he stretched out a foot….and felt it touch something solid.
He heaved a big sigh, both sad and grateful, said a silent farewell to his drowned brother, then scrambled up on top of the big lump of butter he had just finished churning…and hopped out of the pail and off to the swamp, alone but alive.
“Endurance is not just the ability to bear a hard thing, but to turn it into glory.” ~William Barclay