Thank God I'm not president

Imagine yourself about to embark on a major new career path. The realization of the far-reaching and life-and-death aspects of decisions waiting to be made by you on countless fronts has prompted an intense study of the ramifications of each.

As you struggle to create clear, focused plans for all known contingencies, pressure is mounting for you to take the reins of leadership and put them into action. You have firmly resolved to be a builder, a healer. Your new world is waiting anxiously.

Now, today is the day you, figuratively, step off the curb and enter the fray. Suddenly, an elderly gentleman stumbles and falls, unconscious, into the street beside you. At the same time a downed power line from last night's severe thunderstorm sizzles in a rainwater puddle that fills the gutter. A stray dog heads straight for it and extends his tongue for a drink.

Directly across the street, the second-story window of a red brick three-flat explodes and flames shoot out and up into the air. A frantic mother appears with a child in her arms, pleading for someone to catch him as she throws him to the sidewalk below.

What is your response? Flight? Inaction? Instinctive action not based on panic but on intense, thoughtful preparation? No matter; someone will suffer the consequences of your decision. Obviously, there is no time to consider the possibility of negative repercussions that may be visited upon you, however you decide to act. Mercifully, rational thinking returns and you cross the quiet street uneventfully, muttering under your breath, "Thank God I'm not the president."

Marianne Avery

Wheaton