I think there's something great and generic about goldfish.

Hear, O listener, the gentle yet profound words of Paul Rudd: “I think there’s something great and generic about goldfish. They’re everybody’s first pet.” At first, these words may sound lighthearted, even playful, yet beneath them rests a truth that touches upon the beginnings of responsibility, innocence, and the universal lessons of companionship. For in the simple image of the goldfish, there lies a story that countless lives have shared—a story of small beginnings that prepare the soul for greater duties.

The goldfish is humble among creatures. It does not speak, it does not leap upon its master with devotion like a dog, nor does it sing as the birds of the air. Yet in its very simplicity lies its greatness. It is often the first life entrusted to the hands of a child, the first being for which they must care. To feed it daily, to watch its fragile motions, to remember its presence—these are small acts, yet they awaken in young hearts the awareness of responsibility. Thus, as Paul Rudd observes, the goldfish is “everybody’s first pet,” the universal beginning of stewardship.

The ancients understood the power of small beginnings. Did not Aristotle say that education of the young must begin with the simplest habits, for these form the foundation of virtue? Just as a sapling, tender and pliant, must first be taught to stand before it grows into an oak, so too the child must first learn to care for the smallest life before being ready to guard the greater. The goldfish thus becomes more than an ornament; it is a teacher, silent but steadfast, imparting lessons that echo into adulthood.

Consider the story of a young emperor, whose tutor placed in his hands not the affairs of the state, but first the care of a small garden. Only after he had learned to nurture the fragile plants—watering them, protecting them from storms—was he deemed fit to govern people. The goldfish, like that garden, is a lesson in humility. It demands little, yet in its fragility it teaches the child that life, no matter how small, is sacred and dependent on our diligence.

There is also a universality in this image. The goldfish belongs to no single culture, tribe, or nation. It swims in bowls in the East and the West, in palaces and in humble homes alike. Thus it becomes a symbol of shared humanity. We may differ in language and custom, but countless children across the world have leaned over a bowl, peered into the water, and felt the quiet stirring of care for another being. It is, as Rudd says, generic—yet in this commonality lies something great, a bond across generations and borders.

O listener, the teaching is this: greatness is not always in what is rare, but in what is universal. The goldfish, simple and common, has touched more hearts than many exotic beasts, because it has been the first doorway into compassion for millions. Do not despise what is “generic,” for often it is the shared, the ordinary, that shapes the soul most deeply. The first step in kindness, however small, prepares the ground for greater deeds of mercy and courage.

Practical wisdom follows: honor your beginnings. Remember the first pet, the first duty, the first act of care that taught you responsibility. If you have children, entrust them with small lives or tasks, so that they too may grow in awareness of the sacred duty of care. And in your own life, do not neglect the small things, for from them springs the strength to face the great.

Thus I say to you: Paul Rudd’s words, light in tone yet weighty in meaning, remind us that the goldfish is more than a flicker of color in water. It is the universal companion of our first lessons in love, the humble teacher of responsibility, and the silent witness to the fact that all great journeys of the heart begin with the smallest of steps.