An ocean. I couldn’t believe it. All my life I had grown up believing and trusting in a safe, beautiful place. That place? Our boat. Our family boat: the USS Christian. I knew its masts, sails, its nooks and crannies. With my brothers and sisters I had explored it through and through, read in the library, hassled the cook for an extra pastry. I had been entranced by the night-time stories from the Captain.
But here I was, for the first time looking out at the vastness of the ocean. I had read of the ocean, learned of it, memorized its dangers. But never before had I understood the depth of the ocean, in juxtaposition to our little, restricted boat. Why had I not been told that really our little boat was a poor representation of the reality of the world around us? Who did we think we were after all, floating about, ignoring the reality of the waves?
No comments:
Post a Comment