Saturday, November 17, 2012

A Ship. An Ocean

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?

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