Sylvester the Snail

Sylvester the Snail
by Marian Fick


Sylvester the Snail made his way slowly up the beach. Carlos the Crab poked his eyes above the sand and yelled, “Hey! Where are you going?” It really wasn’t necessary for Crabby Carlos to yell. Sylvester was only about 6 inches away from him.

Sylvester, choosing to overlook Carlos’s tone, stopped and smiled. “I’m going to the North End of the beach. The South End is running short of snail food. I told my friends I‘d hunt for a better place to eat.”

“Ha!” said Carlos, still yelling unnecessarily. “It’ll take you two days to get to the North End at that pace!”

Sylvester thought for a second, then replied, “Yep, that’s about right.”

“You’re outa your mind,” yelled Carlos again. “You and your silly snail friends will all starve to death before you get all the way up there and get back to report to them what you found.”

“No, no,” said Sylvester softly. “The Lord will provide enough for us all, even while I search for better feeding grounds.”

As Sylvester continued to inch his way up the beach, Crabby Carlos continued to shout after him, “You’re crazy, Sylvester! You’ll never make it! You’re too slow!”

Sylvester paid no attention to what Carlos was saying. He just kept sliding across the sand at his own snail pace, singing little snail praise songs to Jesus as he crept along. Every once in a while he would start feeling hungry and look around for something to munch on. There was always something lying around to eat. Humans usually left remnants of their picnics up and down the beach. Some of it wasn’t very nutritious from a snail’s point of view and he couldn’t imagine it being of any nutritional value at all for humans. But it would have to do until he could find some real snail food. Now and then he could hear Carlos the Crab’s voice from far off down the beach still yelling at him, “Sylvester, you’re insane! You’re not going to make it!”

Sylvester continued to putter his way up the beach, paying no attention to the crab’s remarks, stopping only for short rests for food and water. He was determined not to let his friends down. But more importantly, he knew the Lord wouldn’t let him and his friends down. The Lord always provides, he said to himself, smiling.

The rest of the day and through the night and into the next day, Sylvester made the lengthy journey up the beach, eyes and nose on the alert for the abundant supply of food he was sure Jesus had in mind for him and his friends. Finally, about mid-day, he found it. It looks perfect, he thought. He sniffed. It smells perfect, too, he thought. He took a little taste of it and said, “Mmm. It tastes even more perfect!” He said a prayer of thanks to the Lord for showing him where to find the food, then filled his stomach to prepare for the long slide home.

The rest of the day and all that night, Sylvester made his slow progress along the beach, heading back south to his friends to tell them the wonderful news. Late the next morning, as he was getting close to home, he heard, “Hey! Sylvester! I can’t believe it!” Yes, it was Crabby Carlos, yelling at him from a full foot and a half away. “You made it! How in the world did you survive for two whole days out there?!”

Sylvester smiled over at Carlos as he slid by. “I told you, the Lord always provides!”

He could hear in the distance some cheering and whistling. It was his friends welcoming him. They were all making their way to Sylvester, all of them sure the Lord had shown him where their new food supply was. Sylvester stopped to let them catch up with him, resting from his long trek to the North End. When they caught up to him, they listened closely to his directions so that everyone would know right where to go in case any one strayed away or straggled behind. Then they all crept slowly up the beach toward their new feeding ground, hearing for a long time as they slid through the warm sand, “You’re all crazy! You’ll never make it! You’re all too slow! You’ll all starve to death before you get there!”

They all ignored Carlos the Crab’s ranting as they continued on at their own snails’ pace singing their little snail praise songs to Jesus.

The end.