The class worked as one to get the sticky oil scrubbed from the baby seal’s fur. They spent many more day nursing it to full health. The teacher had alerted the local news to this newsworthy rescue. The cameras filmed every poignant moment, broadcasting daily in five-minute segments on the 5:00 news.
Success would cumulate in the release of baby seal to its natural home in the sea.
Ground crew and overhead camera captured the glorious moment from every angle. Baby seal did a Charlie-Chaplin walk to the Pacific and plunged-in to applause from teacher, class, and the on-looking crowd. The stirring chords of Born Free saluted the triumph.
The overhead camera followed the little fellow’s progress.
Suddenly a sea eagle swooped from above, snatching baby seal in its savage talons, carrying it off to the blue beyond.
The best of intentions don’t always end in the best
of results.
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Timmy wondered why nobody was talking about his birthday. It was only two days away. He was too shy to ask. They didn’t forget? Did they? He tried to not think about it. When his birthday came, not a word was said. His mom sent him off to the corner store for bread & milk.
He returned dutifully and downtrodden.
He sat the groceries down and opened the door.
The crescendo of so many well-wishers shouting “Happy birthday” at the same time threw him into a panic. He didn’t even know what they shouted, he just ran as fast as he could, not daring to return until many hours later.
The surprise birthday party seemed like such a wonderful idea.
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The original Plymouth Colony was set-up as a commonwealth. Private property was forbidden. All would share wealth in common. From each according to ability, to each according to need. There would be no opportunity for greed. Selfishness would be impossible. What could be more just and fair?
A beautiful intention that produced unpleasant results. Some worked hard, others hardly at all. The colonists shared equal poverty because too few were producing much of anything.
Why would they? They’d get their share even if they did nothing. The industrious among them were discouraged because their best efforts did not increase their gain.
At some point, Governor William Bradford recognized the problem.
He changed the rules.
Colonists would henceforth own their own plot of land. Whatever they produced would belong to them, alone. The effect was dramatic. The Colony prospered, crops bloomed, and all was well. It was the magic of ownership.
People work most earnestly when they know they’ll be able to enjoy the fruits of their own labor. Maybe selfishness isn’t such a bad thing.
The best of intentions don’t always result in the best results.
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We should free the wolves! What a clever plan that seemed to certain animal-rights-activists in the mid-60’s. They opened the gate to the wolf enclosure at a Chicago zoo. It was a generous enclosure. Most of the wolves had been born there. Some at other zoos. None had had never lived anywhere else.
The pack eyed the open gate suspiciously.
The Alpha male turned away, trotting deeper into the enclosure. The pack followed. It was a wise decision. What foolishness it would have been to lead his pack into uncertainty, and leave behind a secure domain, plentiful food, and the only home they’d ever known.
The keepers closed the gate. The wolves breathed a sigh of relief. The perpetrators’ remained at large. No one was charged. The activists were no doubt disappointed, but no harm was done, except possibly to the activists good intentions.
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O. Henry’s story, The Gift of the Maji tells a happier tale of untoward intentions.
Christmas was coming. The loving but poor young couple had no money to buy gifts for each other. Della decides to sell her long, beautiful hair to the hair-dressing shop of Madame Sofronie. She uses the money to buy a platinum pocket-watch chain for Jim. Jim sells the only valuable thing he owns, his pocket-watch, to buy a set of ornamental hair combs for Della.
The best intentions of both were thwarted, but not disastrously. Jim & Della now knew how much they would willingly sacrifice for love of each other.
Sometimes the best of intentions end in the best of results.
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The great Scottish poet, Robert Burns captured the uncertainty poetically in, To a Mouse, his poem about a mouse whose cozy home was suddenly upturned by the plough:
“The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men,
Gang aft a-gley”.