©Every morning, evening, and sometimes, during the afternoon, my backyard is full of hungry ducks. At any given point there might be as many as 50 – sometimes more milling about waiting for me to appear with crackers, their favorite treat. Each time I open my backdoor, a herd comes clumsily rocking my way, cooing, quacking, stumbling, and squeaking, ready to stake their claim.

I’ll sling those crackers all over that yard and they’ll bounce every which way with those little ducks, skipping about, eagerly giving chase. It’s the funniest thing and no matter what mood I’m in when I open the door when I close it, I can honestly say, I’m all smiles … that all changed a few weeks back.

Yes, a few weeks back I walked out for one of our daily’s as I like to call them. Per usual, the herd came rushing my way … except one. I slung crackers all over the yard and those ducks eagerly gave chase, devouring them upon capture, all the while squeaking, cooing, quacking, and stumbling … except one. That one just sat there off to the side, not making a move. I tossed crackers as close to it as I could … but it never moved. It never moved but the others sure did, snatching those treats up, conducting business as usual. But that one duck never moved.

Must be new I thought to myself, shy, still trying to figure out how we do things here … he’ll catch on. Back in the house I went, wiping counters, putting dishes away, getting ready for the workday and then I heard the familiar “whoosh” telling me the ducks had left the yard. That’s right, so many come that when they leave, I can hear them.

On the way back to my room, I glanced out the window and there sat that one duck in that same spot. I turned to get more crackers figuring it with no one else around, it might eat … and that’s when it happened. Just as I was turning, that little guy gingerly hopped up on one leg and slowly began limping away before eventually taking flight. Mystery solved; he didn’t race around the yard like the others because he only had one good leg.

This scenario played out again later in the day as the herd returned for another round … one duck sitting off to the side while the others feasted. I became strategic, tossing crackers to one side to divert the attention of the herd away from the limping duck thinking that might give him a chance. It didn’t work. It didn’t work and each time a cracker dropped anywhere near him, another duck would sprint over and snatch it up.

I came back and began searching the pantry. I heard the familiar “whoosh” telling me the ducks had left, but I knew they’d be back. Off to the side I saw a bag of rice and began to wonder. I boiled it and let it cool. Some time had passed and to my surprise … the limping duck was sitting in the yard. I knew it was him because aside from the limp and the fact that he never moves, he has a distinctive black beak.

I opened the door; no herd approached it was just he and I. I tossed a handful of rice, and it rained down on him. He rolled to the side and began snatching it up. I rained down a few more handfuls, just enough for him to have his own private little feast and did he ever. Back in the house I went. I busied myself and doing this and that. There was no “whoosh” to be heard as this time it was only one leaving, the limping duck – but I could feel it when he left.

The next daily was coming so I boiled and cooled more rice. I walked out and there came the herd, rushing my way and off to the side sat the limping duck. Instead of tossing rice into the herd, I began raining rice down all over the limping duck just like I had done before. The herd ran over and ate their fill and so too did the limping duck. This went on for weeks and each time I came out I made it a point to find the limping duck, the one with the distinctive black beak and I’d rain rice down all over him. The others would get their fill, but he would also get his.

Monday, I opened the door, and the herd rushed me. To my left and right I turned, looking for the limping duck, but he was nowhere to be found. I panned across the herd, anxiously waiting for their treats and who do I see in the middle, squeaking…cooing…quacking, and stumbling … none other than the limping duck! The limping duck, still limping, but no longer sitting off to the side by himself. The limping duck, now using two legs instead of one, with the distinctive black beak, beaming, eyes wide open and a posture that said, “look at me … look at me now … look what I can do!” I know ducks can’t smile, but I promise you on that day in that moment, that little duck with the distinctive black beak, the one with the limp who never moved was smiling.

Just as I had done so many times before, I rained down rice on him again and again and again. The others ate their fill, but he stood tall – on two legs and ate his too. Back in I went, busying myself doing this and that. I heard the familiar “whoosh” telling me the ducks had left the yard. I glanced out the window and the yard was empty; not a duck in sight. The limping duck was gone too. No longer was he sitting off to the side, not moving, watching, unsure of himself. He took flight with the herd …and all it took …

Was a little bit of rice …

***

If you look in the mirror, you’ll see a duck who once limped staring back at you. Fact is, we’ve all been limping ducks… who one day became bold enough to join the herd. Bold, strong, and confident because someone cared enough to rain rice down on us.

We’re eating crackers now, racing to and from devouring the world around us. But even as we rip and run, build businesses, gain promotions, travel, and do all the things life affords us … there’s a limping duck sitting somewhere off to the side. Sitting off to the side, not moving, not making a sound, limping away at the end of each day.

Take a moment to bring him or her into the herd; give them some rice. Could be family, a co-worker, a friend, or a nobody who wants to be a somebody. Meet them where they’re at, find out what they need. Help them gain their footing, their confidence, help them stand on two legs … help them become a part of the “whoosh” –that sound life makes when you’re taking flight.

All it takes … is a little bit of rice …