Call Me Another Thrower: Making a Difference In the World One Starfish at a Time

“I understand,” I said, “call me another thrower.”

— Loren Eiseley

I’ve always loved letter writing. My friend Maya and I have written to each other almost every week for years. I look forward to reading her letters, but no less welcome are the envelopes she decorates. They’re works of art in their own right. One recent envelope (pictured) reminded me of a shoreline. As I wrote to her:

Thank you for your letter and the truly lovely envelope with all its rich colour and texture. I’m seeing it as a shoreline with waves, white water and foam — and tiny starfish!

I thought for a moment, then continued.

It reminds me of a story called “The Tale of the Starfish.” Do you know it? It’s about a little girl saving starfish by returning them to the sea. More generally, it’s about making a difference no matter how small. I’m a big believer in that.

The story I recalled is a reworking of “The Star Thrower” by Loren C. Eiseley, first published in 1969. Various versions exist, of which this is perhaps the best known. The story ends with the young girl confronted by an adult’s logic.

She had been doing this for some time when a man approached her and said, “Little girl, why are you doing this? Look at this beach! You can’t save all these starfish. You can’t begin to make a difference!”

The girl seemed crushed, suddenly deflated. But after a few moments, she bent down, picked up another starfish, and hurled it as far as she could into the ocean. Then she looked up at the man and replied,

“Well, I made a difference for that one!”

The original story of “The Star Thrower” is longer and considerably darker. The thrower is a man, not a young girl. The contrary voice of logic is that of the narrator. His jaded approach to life is challenged by the thrower rescuing the stranded creatures from being taken by collectors “hurrying along with bundles of gathered starfish that will be slowly cooked and dissolved in the outdoor kettles provide by the resort hotels for the cleaning of specimens.” It is not a cosy story.

The underlying message is the same, however. There are times when the problems and challenges that surround us feel too many or too huge to attempt. What difference can we possibly make? The antidote to overwhelm is to focus in close and small. No matter how powerless or helpless we may feel, there is something we can do to make a difference. We may not be able to save every starfish but we can save this one. And this one. And maybe that one.

I smile as I write this, thinking of recent examples from my own life. A few weeks ago, a workplace friend messaged to check on me after seeing something I’d posted on social media. Her simple “Hope you’re okay” meant a lot. (Thanks, Sophie.)

Then there was the conversation I had at my local coffee shop. As I’d arrived, a woman was leaving with her daughter, who proceeded to drop the drink she’d just been bought. Her mother could have been angry. She might have yelled or stormed off. But she didn’t make a fuss. She told her daughter it wasn’t a problem and went back inside to replace the drink. I let her ahead of me in the queue and we spend the next five minutes or so in conversation. We talked about what had just happened. About how life is tough enough without having extra pressure piled on us when something goes wrong or we do something silly. About how life’s too short to cry over a spilled oat latte. We got to the head of the queue and in a further act of kindness, the staff refused to take payment for the replacement drink. We said farewell and parted. Her daughter got a fresh drink, but I received something every bit as valuable. The reminder that small kindnesses matter in this world.

Three further examples presented themselves while I was writing this. My friend Aimee tagged me and several other friends in a social media post.

This, for my people ♥

As you get older, you really just
Want to be surrounded by good
People. People that are
Good for you, good to you,
And good for your soul.

I couldn’t trace the quote’s author, but as someone considerably older than Aimee or the other friends she tagged I agree with its wisdom. It’s the people who show up for us, who care, who do the small things knowing they’re often the big things, that make the most difference in our lives. (Thank you, Aimee.)

Then there was the They Can Talk comic strip I saw online in which two birds are watching a woman filling bird feeders in her garden. “Every morning she fills all of these feeders,” the first bird says. “Who is she?” the other asks. “To us?” comes the reply, “She’s everything.”

And the Threads post by Laurie Biethan in which she shared her experience in line at the grocery store. A woman ahead of her was short of the money to cover her basket of groceries. Laurie made up the difference. As she said, “Best $16.07 I’ve spent in a long time.”

In their different ways, these are all examples of people doing small things that make a big difference. A check in with a friend. A thank you. A replacement coffee. A conversation. A few dollars. Starfish throwers, every one. The narrator of “The Star Thrower” returns to the shore to find the man whose mission, whose very existence, has challenged his outlook on life.

I arose with a solitary mission, to find the star thrower beneath his rainbow. I found him on a projecting point of land in the sweet rain-swept morning. Silently, I sought and picked up a still-living star, spinning it far out into the wave. I spoke once briefly. “I understand,” I said, “call me another thrower.”

He understands it’s not really about starfish at all. It’s much bigger than that.

I never looked back again. The task we assumed was too immense for gazing. I flung and flung again while all about us roared the insatiable waters of death, the burning sun, for it was men as well as starfish that we sought to save, a thrower who loved not man, but life.

If you’d like to read “The Star Thrower” by Loren Eiseley in full, check out this version (PDF) edited by James Cook.

 

Envelope artwork by Maya Hayward.