
As we arrived upon the beach later in the evening, there was quite a group of us. Six adults and sixteen children, to be exact. We had been on our way to a marina, but had been too late and it was closed. Instead of returning back to our campground where we have been enjoying a week together, we turned a corner and found a beautiful beach with a pier leading to a lighthouse.
It was near dusk when we arrived. Sixteen children ranging in age from 8 months to 16 years. Sixteen pairs of legs all declaring freedom of movement in their own ways. Some doing backward flips in the air, and astounding the rest of us. Some younger ones copying the moves of older siblings and friends. Placing their heads directly into the sand to attempt a somersault, as parents watch, smile and shake their heads. They know how much work it is to remove the sand from those heads! Most of the children, including some of mine, are balancing along the concrete ridge that follows along the entrance into the beach, and along the sand.
Jumping as high as they can.
Seeing who can go the farthest.
We go along at whatever pace feels fitting. No rush. No certain bedtime this evening. And as a child, aren't those the best kind of nights? Full of friends, warm breezes, and late bedtimes.
As we come closer to the pier, my nerves seemed to well up inside of me. It looked very narrow. My mind seemed to have many fears. Would all these children be safe on there?
No railing.
Lake Michigan.
The sun was quickly sinking.
My nerves had an effect on my six year old as well. As we approached the pier, he said, "Mama, I don't want to go on there!" "Okay, honey, I'll stay with you," I said. I told my husband we would be staying back. He tried to convince us to come, yet saw the fear in my eyes and went on with the rest of our crew and the other families.
As the other families walked on well in front of us, my son and I suddenly felt a bit alone. We both wanted to go on the pier, yet were fearful. I said a silent prayer. I told my son that I had said a prayer for God to help us be brave.
He looked at me with a bit of fear still in his eyes.
I reached out my hand to him, and he held his in mine.
He is still so young, and yet growing up so fast, this eldest boy of mine.
We tentatively walked together along the pier. The sun was mostly gone now, with only a few spots of orange-red glow on the horizon. The stars had come out, and the breeze had calmed. It was a beautiful evening to be in God's creation.
Someone well ahead of us shouted, "Look, it's a falling star!" As my son and I looked up, there it was. A falling star. As we gazed together into the heavens, he said, "Woah, I can't believe I see a falling star."
I couldn't help it. I started to softly sing the words to a song. "Catch a falling star and put in your pocket, never let it fade away. Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day."
I sang it a couple of times, and then my son joined in. We sang it softly as we walked along, holding hands and sealing the memory into our minds. If we had let fear hold us back, we would have missed that precious moment.
We have been home now from camping now for a few days. Our schedule is returning to our "normal". My son was on the floor playing with his trucks yesterday afternoon. As I walked by him, busily focused on putting the baby down for a nap, my son looked up at me.
He smiled and sang, "Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away." Memories of that night, I hope will stay with him always. Memories of a loving family, joy in friendship, answered prayer, and late bedtimes.
And if you're so inclined to hear the song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U08iKG4tfFE
Blessings,
Joy~