Lending a hand to safer waters

While doing like many others did this past weekend, I tried my best to conquer the heat while sitting at the water’s edge, celebrating our Independence Day.

The day had been a whirlwind of chores and when the sun began to lower below the horizon, the excitement of my little girls began to rise. Assuring me that this year’s fireworks display would be epic, the girls begged me to allow them to enjoy the show while doing a night swim at the pool. Although we rarely allow them to swim in the pool after dark, this year just seemed different.

Still not committing on the question of swimming in the pool, I looked out and saw that instead of the normal, rowdy tourist group occupying the water, it was a large group of young children with their parents. Considering it a great opportunity for the girls to interact socially, I quickly let the girls know they better hurry and get in the pool before the fireworks started.

As you can imagine, sitting in the heat, watching my girls play in the water, was not on the top of my agenda for enjoyment.

I would have much preferred to sit adjacent to the cool air of my air conditioner. Deciding that the girl’s enjoyment was more important than mine, I found myself a chair to sit and watch the girls and the show.

As the girls made new friends, showing them their diving and swimming moves, I battled the bugs anyone who ventures out on the beautiful, sweltering summer nights in Missouri undoubtedly understands.

As I watched the girls interacting with their new friends, I felt a joy in my soul that they have this awesome opportunity to meet new people daily, building friendships and experiences.

Throughout the night, some new families came to the pool, and some went. Each provided a new opportunity for the girls to “scope them out” and gingerly make their way over to them and make introductions.

With the fireworks display in full motion, I continued watching as the kids’ excitement level grew. Approximately halfway through the display, I watched as a new family entered the pool area. The children did what children do best and all rapidly descended upon the water.

As the older children all spread out, I watched a young child, affixed with multiple floaties on her arms, played alone in the shallow end. I watched as the young child began moving a little bit further away from the shallows.

As the child recognized her feet no longer touched, panic set in. Flailing her arms, the child began asking for help, in a playful yet serious manner.

I watched as no one seemed to recognize that the child was struggling. In a pool with multiple siblings and guardians, no one came to the child’s aid.

Out of nowhere, my daughter turned, recognizing that the child was scared, and swam over. I heard her ask, “Are you OK,” and she placed her arms around the child.

Although I couldn’t hear their interaction, I watched as my little girl held on to the child, swimming to the shallow end with the girl in tow. As they arrived at safer waters, the child’s panic lifted and she remained with my girl.

I listened as my child reassured the child that she was safe now. Not being satisfied the child wouldn’t venture into the deep again, my child remained with her, playing, and doing her best to keep the younger child safe.

A sense of pride flowed over me at that moment. I routinely have benefited from watching my children interact with others in kindness and compassion. This was no different.

I am eternally grateful to have had these two exceptional ladies in my life. For a young child to recognize the need and then to unselfishly act upon that need is heartwarming.

In a time and culture which seems to center upon our wants and needs, it was refreshing to see such a little child embrace the concept of lending a hand as a need arises.

In my little life-saver, I see the person I hope to become — a caring and compassionate individual who is willing to place my fun and enjoyment on the back burner to help others, leading them by the hand to safer waters. Reach out a hand my friends.

Richard J. Stephens lives in Carter County and is the father of three little ladies ranging in age from 8 to 29.