Good Intentions Gone Bad

In this world, there are people who are very good at helping others. They are the first ones into burning buildings. They carry supplies to cities devastated by floods, countries decimated by earthquakes, islands deluged by tsunamis. They drive Miss Daisy.

I’m not one of those people. Not that I don’t want to help, I do. It’s just that my efforts rarely work out as anticipated.

Sometimes, good intentions aren’t enough. Sometimes, really good ideas yield really bad results. Look closely at the paving on the Good Intentions Roadway; you’ll see my handiwork. Some people believe it’s the thought that counts. I say, think again.

An early attempt to help

robin egg On my way home from middle school one day, I found an robin’s egg. Picking up that small, delicate, blue oval, I thought of the little life within. Abandoned by its mother bird, what chance of survival could it possibly have? Well, I decided, it had me.Cradling it carefully in my palm, I brought it home. I knew it needed warmth. I also knew my mother would have fits if she saw it. So I carried my little egg to my bedroom, settled on the bed and held it, enjoying it’s smoothness and beauty even as I willed it to survive.Of course, I did have assignments to do; middle school carried its own responsibilities. And, frankly, it was boring to sit there holding an egg. Hmmm… perhaps I hadn’t thought this through. Finally, though, I hit on a solution that would allow me to keep my little charge warm and still free up my hands for homework.Carefully, I placed the tiny egg into my bra, nestled into my somewhat meager cleavage. I worked diligently to complete my work and finally, it was finished.

I breathed a deep sigh of relief…

Read the rest of this article  robin egg

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