Sometimes We Give Up Too Soon

I got a pretty good lesson recently about giving up.

I just bought a set of Pyrex glass containers.  It came with an extra bonus lid with air holes and a removable tab you can snap on and off the air holes to let air into the container.  I suppose they invented this lid to make microwaving easier.  In any case, the lid is pretty well-made, so I liked it.

Before I would use my new containers, I washed them thoroughly in an even bigger container in my kitchen sink.  I was almost done when I realized that the tab, which is small and which I had removed from the lid, was not to be seen or felt on the bottom of the big red container.  I immediately figured that the tab had gone down into the garbage disposal, and disappointed, I poured the rest of the water out of the container.  As soon as I poured the water though, I saw the tab go floating down toward the drain.  I instantly let go of the container and put my hands over the drain blindly, as the container was now blocking my view, in hopes of catching the tab.  But I could feel the water quickly rushing down.  No tab did I feel.  And when I pulled up the red container, the sink was empty.

As I was covering the hole, and felt no tab go through, I suddenly thought, "Why did this happen to me?"  I know it's silly, but I had just got this set, and without even having the chance to use it, I had just lost a piece.  And it was a new lid they were testing out, and now I wouldn't be able to use it as it it was meant to be used.

But as soon as I had this thought, I realized that it was my fault.  I had assumed that the tab was gone before it was.  I didn't see it in the red container so I assumed it was down the drain.  I didn't realize that it could have been in the sink, outside the container (which is where I assume it was) on the side hidden to me.  And when I gave up and let go all the water into the sink, that's when the tab actually sank down into the drain.  It happened after I gave up; not before.  I gave up too soon and that is why I lost the tab.

Now the tab was not a really big thing (both literally and figuratively) and I did manage to get over losing it.  Of course, it wasn't losing it that hurt, it was the idea that I wouldn't be able to enjoy the lid at all as it was meant to be enjoyed.  And it was the idea that I could have saved the tab, if I hadn't given up.  Or maybe if I hadn't been fearful, and had fear cloud my judgement, I would have tried another solution like slamming the big container over the drain.  Or maybe I just didn't have the time to think then; only to react.

But like I said, losing the tab was a small thing.  It just taught me a big lesson:  Sometimes we give up too soon.  It's too early to give up unless you actually see the tab swirling into the drain.  Until then, assume you still have a chance to find it hidden somewhere.