Jesus on the beach

 We spent the past weekend at one of our favourite places - Umzumbe beach. I write about it quite a lot. My mom grew up on this beach and we have spent many a holiday on its familiar beaches.

The weekend was a bit weird though. There was a cyclone warning and so the beach was closed on Saturday. The shark nets had been pulled up and there were squalls of intermittent rain throughout Saturday. Friday and Saturday nights were also unsettling. During the night various rituals took place on the beach. There was drumming and singing and whistle blowing and those taking part in the rituals would wind their way down the path to the beach. The path happens to be right next to our beach cottage. 

Between the expectations of tsunamis, shark attacks and haunted sleep disturbed by alarming cries by Sunday I was feeling ill at ease. 

Sunday dawned overcast but still. The beach was perfect and silent and my parents were able to take the grandchildren down to the tidal pool to give their parents some respite. When I finally roused myself and headed down to the beach I discovered that Gray had made a friend. The friend was an eleven year old boy, Matt, who we had seen walking on the beach with his grandfather the day before. We had actually wondered if one of them was 'hard of seeing' because the two walked so closely together - they were literally joined at the hip. Their very real love and care for each other was almost tangible as they chatted, walked and held each other. It was exactly how things should be between and grandfather and his grandson.

And now this young boy had befriended my six year old. He had arrived on the beach with his skim board and as soon as Gray showed interest in what he was doing Matt immediately set to work in teaching Gray how to do it himself. He was the most encouraging and enthusiastic teacher and Gray literally shone under the attention of the older boy. 'Wow Gray! That was amazing! Well done!' and when Gray fell hard on the sand Matt's concern was real and kind. 

Few things make a little boy beam more than when an older boy brings him into the fold and teaches him how to do something he never thought he could do.

Later the tidal pool filled with more boys - no girls other than Eva - and again the games were fun, physical and joyful. Another older boy befriended Gray and fetched his surf board and taught him how to stand on it in the pool. Matt then gave the new friend his skim board and Matt chugged Gray around on the surf board in the tidal pool. 

My mom overheard the boy asking Gray how long he was going to be at the beach for and Gray told him that we would be leaving that day. The boy replied enthusiastically, 'That's the best kind of day. When you end your holiday having fun on the beach!'

Later on I tried to encourage Gray (whose self-preservation instincts are through the roof) to join me in the big sea. He was frightened and stood on the sand. Matt came alongside him and knew immediately that Gray was terrified. 'Its ok Gray, you don't need to be frightened. Just start by standing in the little waves and then when you are braver you can go a little deeper.' He gave Gray permission to be frightened but also gave solid advice on how to overcome those fears in a practical way. Gray remained at the edge of the shoreline but Matt ensured that he stayed near giving him words of encouragement.

When it was time to leave Gray shook Matt's hand and I thanked Matt's parents for raising such a remarkable young man. 

My beloved beach again shone golden and innocent after a day of such beautiful interactions.

As Gray and I made our way up the path I said to him, 'Matt has a lot of Jesus in him doesn't he?' My little boy smiled and looked back to his friend swimming in the waves, 'Yes he does.'

Sometimes a small boy can beat the waves, the sharks and the cries in the night because of Who he carries inside him.