The Tide

I don't have many memories from when I was a very young child. I remember things from the past here and there at random. A lot of times, they are trivial things like what toy I got in my Burger King kid's meal in 1999. It was a gold plated Pokémon card by the way. However, there are a few memories I will always remember and cherish. This one is about a small good deed that meant a lot to me.

When I was 4 years old, my parents took the whole family and me to the beach during summer. School was out and we wanted to make the best out of summer break, so our parents booked a hotel for a few days in our favorite vacation spot, Morro Bay.

Morro Bay was a nice and small beach town, which was most famous for a huge, towering rock near the shore, aptly named, Morro Rock. It was about 3 hours away from our home and our parents had been taking us there since we were babies.

When we got to the beach, we immediately split up. My parents wanted to sit back and relax in their fold-up chairs under the umbrella. My brother and sister wanted to build a sandcastle and the first thing I wanted to do was to jump in the ocean, so we parted ways.

I was having a blast playing in the tide. I used to wade around in the shallow area and run back and forth; pretending the waves were chasing me up and down the shore. My parents watched from a distance as I played, so I was within their eyesight. I didn't know they could see me though, which made me more afraid in the upcoming event.

I remember slipping and being stuck in the tide. I felt as though I was going to be swept into the sea, but my hands and knees were still able to touch the ground. You know that feeling when you have your feet in the muddy sand, and as the tide takes off; it feels as though you are moving towards the sea? That is what was actually happening, but as I was crawling on all fours when the tide receded, I felt as though I was starting to drift away from the shore. As I said before, my parents were watching me and I remained in the very shallow part of the ocean. However, as an easily frightened child, I thought I was being swept out into the sea. At that moment when I was crawling through the meager tide, scared out of my mind, a surfer saw me and made his way towards me. With his surfboard in one arm, he scooped me up and took me back to my parents, who were already in the process of rescuing me. They thanked him and with my parents prompting me because I was very shy, I thanked him as well.

It was a memory, that was that seemed easy to overlook, but filled me with a deep sense of gratitude and I think about it from time to time even at 31 years old. My parents may or may not remember this, but I have not mentioned it to them since I was a kid, so I'm not sure. I have no idea what the surfer looked like, like his facial features or hair color, but I definitely remember his actions. It was a small gesture of kindness, but it meant the world to me. I'm sure that I will remember it, even when I am old and grey.