Called to revolution, the five gathered friends discussed just how it might come about around a dinner table following a day of relaxation, restoration and reflection.
The first, most confident member of the group suggested, with no hint of timidity, that they stand in the streets chanting as people pass, informing them of the result of their lack of interest in the revolution. Having being presented with the ultimatum it would be instantly clear who was in and who was out.
The second, not wanting to insult or hurt anyone, suggested that a high quality poster, containing modern graphics, a clever pun and times of the next dinner table gathering would grab the attention of the casual passer. Having been presented with the option of joining it would be instantly clear who was in and who was out.
The third, desiring to attract a younger, more enthusiastic and less world-worn selection of revolutionaries, explained patiently to the catered for crew that engaging friends through social media and, perhaps, moving the dinner from a home to a more popular fast food chain, would deliver the required results. Having been presented with the invitation via friends (and friends of friends) it would be instantly clear who was interested in even hearing the revolutionary message.
The fourth, a creative thinker, had spent some time doodling on their napkin. Just as it went quiet, he started reading the not-so-random lyrics of a new song, written to galvanise the gathering and, hopefully, catchy enough for others to be interested in the message, so long as it was played the right way and sung enthusiastically enough with hands appropriately raised. Having been presented with the melodic marvel it would be instantly clear from the tapping feet whether anyone would fit with their revolutionary group.
When the passionate plea had finished, and the poster planner had finished, and the party planner had finished, and the poem performer had finished, they looked at the empty seat of the fifth guest. They asked each other whether they had seen them go; none had. They searched the house, scanned the road outside, and briefly checked their various digital devices to see if messages had been left. Quite to their surprise they found their missing member mentioned everywhere.
The first was a news report about a homeless man who had been presented with an unwanted meal by an unknown person, the plate clearly matching one of their own.
The second was a message from an elderly lady thanking a stranger for helping her reach the highest shelf in the nearby corner shop.
The third was from a local charity who had received a mystery donation allowing them to provide more support to those in need.
The fourth was a tear filled thank you from the person whose child had been pulled back from the road at just the right moment.
As they continued to stare at their screens from the safety of their meeting place, they pondered whether their friend had been more faithful to the revolution than they. The considered whether, by seeking to invite more participants they had somehow forgotten their original intention to make a difference. They thought about how their friend had already had more of a positive impact by doing than they had ever had in planning.
And they sat down.
And they discussed how they could change.
And they began to plan ways to make a difference.
And they listed all the ways that they could, with training, become active revolutionaries.
And they totally missed the point.