Respecting humbleness

I have read an article about ants.

The ant family and harmony are busy. They carry food and build homes in the wilderness and wasteland. I can't think of a little creature, but I live so so moist, and live so orderly and meaningful. What struck me especially was their behavior in the face of disaster.

When the wildfire is burning, do you know how the ants escaped? Many ants quickly gathered, clasped into black balls, and then rolled like a snowball, fleeing from the sea of ​​fire.

Every time I read this text, I seem to see the raging volcano burning, a black wind is flowing along the ridge; I seem to hear the burning sound of the scorpion, which is the outermost layer of ants to use the body to develop a way to survive.

If there is no wisdom to hold a group, and there is no sacrifice at the outermost level, the small ant family will be destroyed.

The tinyness of life, the thinness of physical strength is not terrible, and even the humbleness of fate cannot be determined. What is terrible is that we cannot see the meager power and neglect the inner spirit.

Respecting humbleness makes me see life as serious, deep in sight, and great and strong. Like a tiny needle, the ant pierces my coat with its spirit, stinging my soul. Compared with ants, what reason do we have to say small and humble? Is there any reason to be self-defeating and cynical? What is great in the world is often not volume, but spirit. The dyke of thousands of miles, collapsed in the ant nest, this is the majesty and challenge of the humble.

First day: Minnie Bear