The little fish jumped and found herself flopping around on dirt and rock. It hurt. She wondered if she should jump back. Even worse, the hot sun came out and Little Fish thought she was going to die from the rocks, dirt and heat. She could hardly breathe.
I could go back.
Little Fish knew that it was just a matter of time until she succumbed to either the heat or a passing gull. Pondering the inevitability of one’s fate is like being punched in the gut, she thought. Not a pleasant feeling at all.
“There’s always the possibility of going back,” Little Fish said aloud, knowing that the universe holds one accountable for the spoken word. “The conventional wisdom must be true: The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t know.” And Little Fish wanted to jump back to the pond.
Some might call it an act of God, but probably it was just heat exhaustion. On the last count of three when Little Fish was about to give her supreme effort to jump back to the pond, her last conscious thought flew away and she fell into darkness.
So this is death.
It was a deep dreamy sleep but Little Fish knew she would never wake up. “So this is death,” she said aloud again marveling at the infinite possibility of all life things. “How little I saw all those days when I thought I was living. Imagine what I might have done.”
But then a funny thing happened. It started to rain. It rained hard and all of a sudden, Little Fish found herself in a puddle of water. She could breathe again. The puddle grew and Little Fish could swim a bit again. After a while, the puddle turned into a stream. Little Fish could feel the stream flowing with a current and she started swimming with this new current. Then after a while longer, the stream emptied into a very big body of living water.
And we all know what happens with living water…
Living water quenches the soul
Little Fish was never thirsty again.