The Life Lessons I Learned from a Snake

In response to Dancing Elephants prompt 1 of Life Column

On a golden summer day in 1951, my older brother and I found ourselves exploring the rustic charms of our grandfather’s farm. Eager for adventure, we dashed through the sprawling fields, their golden wheat dancing in the soft breeze, and ventured into the dense, shadowy woods that bordered the farm.

During our exploration, an unexpected encounter sent a jolt through our spines — a snake, coiled in the underbrush. Startled by our sudden intrusion, the snake reacted with a swift strike, its fangs piercing my brother’s skin just above the ankle. Fear and anger flashed in my brother’s eyes, a tumultuous blend of emotions as he watched the snake retreat rapidly into the thicket.

Kneeling beside him, I examined the tiny, unassuming bite mark. Relief washed over me as I noted the absence of any alarming symptoms — no swelling, no discoloration. Confident, I reassured him, “There’s no poison; the skin looks normal.”

But my brother, older and wiser in my young eyes, was not so easily consoled. His voice trembled with conviction as he recalled a passage from the Bible, which he had begun to explore with his newfound reading skills. “Snakes are creatures of evil,” he declared, referencing the ancient text that I, still struggling with the basics of reading, accepted without question.

Fueled by concern for my brother and a naive belief in his interpretation, I embarked through the underbrush, determined to confront the snake — a quest guided by youthful innocence and a simplistic understanding of good versus evil.

Breathless with determination, I dashed back to the farmhouse, my mind set on a mission of vengeance. Grandpa, sensing my intent, firmly denied me access to the .22 rifle but handed me the Red Ryder BB gun instead. With a sense of solemn duty, I loaded it with BBs, feeling like a young explorer embarking on a dangerous safari.

Returning to the scene, I found my brother still seated, his cheeks glistening with the remnants of fear and relief. His breathing had steadied, a sign that the immediate danger had passed. I nodded to him reassuringly and began my hunt, walking in ever-widening circles, eyes scanning the undergrowth for our adversary.

It was during my fifth circuit, now a good distance from my brother, that I spotted it — a small, black object that seemed like a stick at first glance. But then it moved, revealing itself to be the snake, now coiled and unassuming. My heart pounded as I raised the BB gun, aiming at what I had deemed ‘Satan’s henchman’. The snake lifted its head, meeting my gaze, its tongue flickering in silent assessment.

In that moment, something shifted within me. As I gazed into its eyes, I didn’t see malevolence or danger; I saw a creature, serene and poised, a part of the natural world around us. I slowly lowered the gun, sitting down as I continued to observe it. The snake’s calm demeanor was infectious, and my righteous anger dissolved into a newfound respect and awe.

I realized then that this snake, far from being an evil entity, was an integral part of the ecosystem, a natural predator keeping the mouse and rat population in check. The longer I watched, the more I admired its sleek beauty and graceful presence. It seemed to relax, basking in a sunlit patch, both of us at ease in this shared moment of tranquility.

In a gesture of peace, I extended my hand gently towards the snake. It flicked its tongue curiously but didn’t recoil. As my fingers lightly touched its chin, a profound understanding washed over me. This was not a creature of evil, but another of God’s creations, as deserving of respect and admiration as any other.

Standing up, I bid it farewell, encouraging it to enjoy the mice in the yard. With a sense of closure, I returned to my brother, ready to share the tale of our woodland encounter.

Back at the house, Grandpa tended to my brother’s wound and listened intently to my story. He identified the snake as a Black Racer, a beneficial presence in our yard. His words of commendation filled me with pride.

This adventure taught me invaluable lessons. Respect for others’ homes and the importance of coexistence. The need to pause and reflect before reacting in anger or fear. And, most importantly, a deeper appreciation of all of God’s creatures, recognizing their intrinsic beauty and purpose in the grand tapestry of life.

Purbita Chakraborty also answered this prompt with a magical story about kindness. Be sure to watch the video. It will make you smile!

James Boylan has penned a thoughtful piece on Will. It will enhance your understanding. Take a peek.

Another response to the prompt was released by Libby Shively McAvoy.

Dr. Fatima Imam has also responded to the Life prompt.

Of course, Yana Bostongirl shares her take on the prompt.

And while we are on a roll, here is a great piece from DR Rawson - The Possibilist.

A personal announcement: My second book, “How to Turn Your Articles into a Bestselling Book” is now available on Amazon.