An Ant

Sunday morning, at eight o'clock, I was sitting on my front porch, staring at an ant. It deliriously, almost frantically waltzed around in what appeared to be a slapdash trail. I internally chuckled.
And as I observed this tiny creature, a thought struck me so hard in the head I thought I heard it aloud- "he knows exactly where he's going."

... and then I watched the Ant suddenly stop, and head straight for a darkened crack in between two slabs of concrete, I thought again, "if he knows where he's going, why would he head straight for the blackened, unknown, cold, hole in the ground?

My question was answered as a few minutes later, the Ant emerged from the abyss with a fallen friend on his back.

This Ant carried his friend back to what I had presumed to be their hill, by himself. And I somehow knew that not a single I-can't-believe-I-have-to-do-this's, or I-have-other-things-to-worry-about-in-my-life's crossed through his small, but determined mind.

How can this small, seemingly insignificant ANT be determined enough and selfless enough to enable himself like this? I'm positive that this insect was aware of his insignificance. I'm sure he knew how puny he was compared to the massive world and works and ideas and people and bigger lives around him.

Yet, he understood his purpose, carried it out, and did it in the most determined way I had ever seen. Nothing else in the world mattered at that moment. Not if he was lost, not if he was afraid, not even if his own ant life was in shatters, Nothing. He just knew his purpose. Or maybe he just chose it.