I never even saw it. It was an accident. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry.... A smattering of blood on our driveway marks the place where I ran over the rough green snake. I'd just gotten out of the car in our garage when I noticed a mockingbird standing statuesque in the driveway.
"Why, hello, Mockingbird!" I sang out.
Then I saw what the mockingbird saw – a snake. Oh, a snake!
My happy realization quickly turned awful.
I'd run over it.
I stood in the garage, shocked and grief stricken. I watched as its slim tail moved slowly back and forth on the concrete. I knew it wouldn't survive.
"Oh, I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to!" My soft wails turned to cries, then crying. I couldn't bear to look at it. But finally I walked out of the garage and gently used a spade to lift it onto newspaper. I carried the snake into our garage, where it passed.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," I cried.
Come on, it's just a snake, some may sneer. Who cares?
Yes, it was just a snake. But not just any snake. It was itself like none other. Like you are only yourself, and I am only me. There is no one else like you or me. That little green snake slept last night in our gardens. It opened its eyes this morning and slithered off to search for a meal. It was on its way across our driveway when my wheels crushed its smooth body.
When I was a girl of four, a kind Sunday school teacher gifted me with a baby anole in a jar. I adored that lizard. I'd take the lid off, reach in for it, and then rock it on my finger. But one time, I twisted the lid back with the anole inside. Sadly, I didn't see that it hadn't gone all the way back inside the jar.
I killed it.
I sobbed and sobbed. Mother laid its little body beneath her red geraniums in a flower bed. When I saw my lifeless friend covered in ants, I cried harder.
I guess at the age of 65, I really haven't changed. I love and honor all creatures, great and small.
Rest in peace, little green snake.
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