Many
years
ago, or
so they
say, a
lonely
lighthouse
kept watch
over a
treacherous
coastline.
Inside
lived
a man
whose
task it
was to
tend the
flame.
He had
a small
dinghy
which
he used
to rescue
those
whose
vessels
crashed
into the
rocks.
Shipwrecks
were common.
On one
particularly
fateful
evening,
a large
ship sank
within
reach
of the
shore.
He made
repeated
trips
to rescue
the survivors.
Before
his fifth
return
trip his
wife urged
him, “You’re
too exhausted;
don’t
go back.”
“But
there
are still
more to
be saved,”
he said.
“If I
don’t
go, they’ll
die.”
Despite
her protests
he returned,
and as
she feared,
he made
a critical
navigational
error.
The vessel
crashed
into the
rocks.
His life,
his passengers'
lives
and his
boat were
lost.
The
survivors,
grateful
to be
alive,
were overwhelmed
with sorrow
for the
man and
his family.
How could
they demonstrate
their
appreciation?
“I’d
be dead
were it
not for
him,”
said one
passenger.
“Now that
he is
gone,
who will
rescue
future
seafarers?”
He paused
for a
moment
and said
with resolve,
“I don't
know about
the rest
of you,
but I
will stay
here to
carry
on his
work.”
A
dozen
others
agreed
with him
and determined
that they,
too, would
remain.
Pooling
their
resources,
they built
a dock,
purchased
a boat,
and constructed
a rudimentary
medical
station.
The lifesaving
work was
begun.
During
the next
decade,
hundreds
of lives
were saved.
Their
reputation
spread
up and
down the
coast.
They came
to be
known,
simply,
as “The
Lifesavers.”
In
time,
additional
lifesaving
stations
were built
at dangerous
places
along
the coastline.
More and
more people,
filled
with gratitude,
began
to identify
with the
station.
Larger
facilities
were constructed
at home
base.
The rickety
dock was
replaced.
New boats
were purchased.
Classes
were held
to teach
rescue
techniques
to new
recruits.
A manual
was written
to systematize
the training.
Weekly
meetings
were held
for all
members
of the
club members.
Lifesaving
songs
were sung,
and the
manual
was commented
upon by
the chief
lifesaver.
In
the beginning,
every
club member
spent
time in
the water.
Later,
however,
concessions
were made.
So long
as adherents
attended
the meetings
and supported
the project,
they were
considered
members
in good
standing.
More
and more
people
began
to choose
this path.
After
a while,
there
were many
members
who, while
sympathetic
to the
group’s
goals,
had never
even been
on a rescue
mission.
The consequences
were predictable.
The club
began
to focus
less on
its rescue
mission,
and more
on its
members’
needs.
When
drenched
survivors
were brought
into the
meeting
room,
some complained.
“They’re
getting
the carpet
dirty,”
the members
said.
“Can’t
they be
taken
someplace
else?”
Those
who were
still
actively
rescuing
people
would
complain
to the
leadership
of the
club:
“We call
ourselves
‘Lifesavers,’
but few
of us
are actually
doing
it!”
