Lynnie and the Goose

Once, when I was driving to play a symphony concert at Harper College in Palatine, Illinois, a large Canada goose walked out in front of my car on the college’s access road. The big goose stood there in the middle of the road for quite a while, just staring at me. I didn’t want to hit him, and I certainly didn’t want to get out of the car to approach him. I’ve been chased and bitten by a goose before, and it hurt!

I honked my car horn at him. He honked back at me. I honked again. He honked again. This went on for several minutes. He would not move. I decided I might as well give up because there was nowhere I could go and nothing I could do. I stopped honking and just sat in the car, watching the goose and worrying about whether I would make it to the concert on time.

After about 5 or 6 minutes, with his eye still on me and my car, Mr. goose retreated a few steps back to the side of the road. There, waiting in the bushes, was his mate. While I waited in the car, to my amazement, he gallantly and fearlessly escorted her across the road to the pond on the other side of the access road. When I could catch my breath after this awesome experience, I proceeded to the concert hall and made it barely on time.

What I learned is, no matter how small I am, with patience, courage and clear purpose, I too might be able to stand off those with more power than I. Who knows what kind of difference I can make if I can be brave enough?


About feistylynnie

I am a closet explorer of the weird, unusual and extraordinary sides of life, masquerading as a normal person. I play viola and violin in many styles including classical, blues, folk and disco. I am also a horse, donkey, cat and dog lover and total geek.
This entry was posted in faith, goose, peaceful demonstration, Power of intention, pride, protest, Self Conficence, Uncategorized, we shall overcome. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Lynnie and the Goose

  1. Rick says:

    Nice story and a lesson for patience because wondrous things may appear.

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