One Sunday after church, as my wife and I pulled into our driveway, I felt an unusually strong impulsion to go immediately into our backyard. I walked to the edge of the yard, where a small stream flows into a larger, deeper pond. The pond provides a great habitat for wild ducks.
As I stood observing the ducks, my eye was drawn to one lone duck standing on the shore about 20 feet away. A closer look showed that a thick tangle of plastic rings—the kind that hold six-pack soda cans together—was woven around the duck’s neck. In fact, the plastic seemed so tight that it appeared the duck couldn’t breathe. Indeed, the duck was wobbling on the verge of collapse.
My first instinct was to approach the duck slowly. But as the duck saw me coming, it managed to swim away to the middle of the pond, out of my reach. Apparently this duck didn’t understand that my intentions were good. Yet I feared what would happen if the choking plastic rings weren’t removed in time. But since I didn’t speak “Duck” and the duck didn’t understand “English,” we had what appeared to be an insurmountable communications barrier. Yet something had to be done. And soon!
