The Passage Of Time

"I'm 71 years of age," I said aloud, while sitting outside. "How did the years pass so quickly?"

"That's nothing," replied a little rock. "I'm 200 million years old."

"You see that rock over there," he continued. "His name is Iggy, and he's 1.7 billion years old. But you're very lucky that you don't live as long as we do."

"Why is that," I asked.

"Because you must make the most of the time you have. You can love and laugh and appreciate beauty in all its forms. You can think great thoughts and live each day with purpose."

"But so many people don't do that," I replied. "They worry themselves to death."

"Foolish," answered the little rock. "If I lived as briefly as people do, I would make each day count, seeking to be happy and to make others happy."

"What else is there to human life," he asked.

"There's nothing else," I answered. "Now that I realize how brief my life is, I'll not waste another day in worry or anger or resentment. Each day I'll bring happiness to the world and to myself."

As I walked off, I heard Iggy ask the little rock what our conversation was about.

"Nothing special," he replied. "I just had to remind another human how precious the gift of life is."

Dick