Even though I can’t swim I love our family trips to Myrtle Beach. One July morning my son, Chance, and I went into the water together. The tide was surprisingly high, the water choppy. “I’d better get out,” I said. But before I could a big wave rolled over me. I stretched my toes but I couldn’t seem to touch bottom.
Chance saw me panic and reached for my hand. Another wave pushed us farther from shore. Chance tried to pull me along behind him as he swam, but the current was too strong. He hollered and waved, treading water. The lifeguard couldn’t hear him. Nobody on the beach saw the trouble we were in. Help could only come from one place: Lord, please get us to shore!
A blond head bobbed up beside me. It was a young girl in a bright bathing suit. She took my hand. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll help you two.”
The girl pulled me toward shore. The current seemed to be no match for her. Chance swam easily without me holding onto him. As soon as I touch land, I thought, I’m giving this girl a hug!
The lifeguard splashed into the water and held me steady until we were on dry land. I let go of the girl and turned around to give her that hug. But where had she gone? Chance and I were stunned. I asked the lifeguard if he’d seen where she went.
“What girl?” the lifeguard said. “You two were alone.”
—Lisa Sutton
Dandridge, Tennessee
