There are two kinds of people.
Foxes and Hedgehogs.
Foxes dig lots of shallow holes, spreading out all over the place.
Their coats are silky, shiny, and colorful. They’re debonair.
They’re sly. They’re quick. They’re here, there, and everywhere.
Hedgehogs are a bit pudgy.
They’re not real handsome or pretty. They’re drab.
They’re either still, like a rock, or busy digging away, usually the latter.
They start digging one hole, and once they start you can’t get them sidetracked.
They just keep digging one big hole. The hole gets wider and deeper.
And deeper. And deeper.
It seems like they are working their way down to the center of the earth.
It’s safe in that deep hole.
Some un-welcomed guests enter and start poking around.
The further in they go, the quieter it gets. Unnerved, they turnaround and leave.
The hedgehog keeps digging. Other creatures talk down about them,
Saying how they are just running away from the world.
Very few creatures understand hedgehogs.
They’re not digging away from anything, they’re digging toward something.
The closer they get, the better they feel.
They never reach the end, which they find rather mysterious.
Perhaps there is no end. Perhaps there is only the way.
There are a few foxes, usually older foxes, who realize
That they’ve been running around getting nowhere.
Just how some foxes turn into hedgehogs, no one knows.
It hurts. It’s harrowing. It’s humbling.
It is, however, widely known that the few foxes that do turn into hedgehogs,
Become some of the finest hedgehogs hedgehogs have ever had the privilege to meet.