March 31, 2011

It was a sobering moment.  A time when a simple act of daily decision-making was so much more than what was apparent.

What was apparent was an active child–one who has the normal tumbles, scrapes, and bumps.

What was apparent was a group of swimmers, ready to hop in for lessons.

What was apparent was the need for a sorry but firm decision that he would not be able to join the lesson today . . .

One of my swimmers came to the lesson this morning shortly after taking a tumble on the playground, bumping his head.  I had been told to watch and make sure he felt ok, so I did.  Then, before having them enter the water, I noticed a small, bleeding scratch.  I wished I could just react as if it were any active youngster; but instead I could not help but feel a wave of decision-making worries.  So today he had to sit out.  And when he was told he cried.

He cried the innocent tears of a child who just wants to join in with his classmates.  The simple tears of disappointment over not getting to swim on a hot, sunny day.

And he has no idea how deep the well of weeping could be for his young life. Would that this well could stay untapped, could never have to be drawn . . .



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