The Invisible Frog

Yesterday, when I was walking my children home from school, my daughter (3) points to the sidewalk and asks, “What’s that?” I stared at the gray path, trying to figure out what had caught her attention, but I didn’t see it. An older boy, walking home from school, glances at her and says, “It’s a frog.”

I got closer, getting on my hands and knees until, just barely, I could make out the gray bump against the gray surface of the path. Sure enough, a nearly invisible frog, no bigger than my thumb, sat at still as a rock.

Concerned that if it stayed put, a passerby would miss the tiny little chameleon, I nudged it until it hopped into the nearby grass, where it hopefully stayed safe from harm.

But today, as I walked the same path, I realized that I hadn’t seen the frog until I was on my hands and knees, and if he had returned to his former location, I might squash him. I walked the path slowly, sure that at any moment, I would feel a squish, and then I would probably cry.

It made me think, though, that we are giants. What else might we crush beneath our feet without even noticing? Or who?

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