"I found a snail in the woods. I brought it back and it's right here beneath the violets.""You did? Why did you bring it it?""I don't know. I thought you might enjoy it.""Is it alive?"She picked up the brown acorn-sized shell and looked at it."I think it is."Why, I wondered, would I enjoy a snail? What on earth would I do with it? I couldn't get out of bed to return it to the woods. It was not much of interest, and if it was alive, the responsibility-- especially for a snail, something so uncalled for-- was overwhelming.My friend hugged me, said goodbye, and drove off.
"The life of a snail is as full of tasty food, comfortable beds of sorts, and a mix of pleasant and not-so-pleasant adventures as that of anyone I know."