The Parable of the Children and the Anthill

One day while teaching, Josh was asked, ”Teacher, are they hawks or chicken hawks who crow to attack in Syria?”

Josh spoke thus:

Two children were looking at an anthill.

The anthill was not a small cone of dirt, as is so often found rising out of a crack in a sidewalk.  This anthill was a great mound, three feet tall, and teeming with activity.  It was one of the great mounds built in the pine forests of the north, a great dome of pine branch and pine needle and pine bark, a bastion of the great black ants that dominate the forest floor beneath the tall, straight northern pines.

“I could throw a rock in it,” one of the children said, “I hate ants.  Ants crawl on my feet when I walk in the woods.  Ants stick in my sweets.  Ants are creepy.”

“Ants won’t crawl on your feet if you don’t walk on their highways,” the other child said, “They won’t stick to your sweets if you don’t drop your sweets or leave them on the table in the sun.  And they’re not creepy.”

“Why do you love ants so much?” the first child asked, “You’re always defending ants.”

“I don’t love ants,” the second child said, “But I don’t hate them.  I don’t want to throw stones at them.”

“You’re an ant hugger!” the first child said.

“Take that back!” the second child said.

“I won’t!” the first child said.

The second child grabbed the first child’s lollipop out of the first child’s hand and tossed it on the anthill.

“My lollipop!” the first child shouted, “Get it back.”

“Take back what you said,” the second child said.

“Get it back!” the first child said.

“Say I’m not an ant hugger,” the second child said.

“Ant hugger!  Ant hugger!  Ant hugger!” the first child said.

The second child pushed the first child.  The first child shoved back.  The two children pushed and pulled at each other.  Both children tumbled onto the anthill.

“Agh!” the second child said, “They’re biting!  Get me off!  Get me off!”

The first child held the second child down and shouted, “Ant hugger!  Ant hugger!  Ant hugger!”

The second child wrestled itself from beneath the first child and ran into the family’s summer house, crying.

“Where’s my lollipop?” the first child said, just to be brave, as the ants continued to crawl and bite.  The first child reached for the lollipop, but in reaching, stepped into a depression, where the first child’s shoe stuck.  The first child could no longer be brave.

“Get me out!  Get me out!” the first child called.  The children’s parent came striding out of the summer house, along with the second child.

“Stop playing in that anthill!” the parent said.  The parent pulled the first child’s arm, but the first child’s shoe was still stuck in the depression.

“Why won’t you come out?” the second child said, “You love the ants too much!  Ant hugger!  Ant hugger!”