The Sandpiper

[fritz]

I'd like to share this with my friends here---

 

 

The Sandpiper

>>>by Robert Peterson

>>>

>>>

>>>She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I

>>>live.

>>>I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the

>>>world begins to close in on me. She was building a sand castle or

>>>something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.

>>>

>>>"Hello," she said.

>>>

>>>I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small

>>>child.

>>>

>>>"I'm building," she said.

>>>

>>>"I see that. What is it?" I asked, not really caring.

>>>

>>>"Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand."

>>>

>>>That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes.

>>>

>>>A sandpiper glided by.

>>>

>>>"That's a joy," the child said.

>>>

>>>"It's a what?"

>>>

>>>"It's a joy. My mama

>>>says sandpipers come to bring us joy."

>>>

>>>The bird went gliding down the beach. Good-bye joy, I muttered to

>>>myself,

>>>hello pain, and turned to walk on. I was depressed, my life seemed

>>>completely out of balance.

>>>

>>>"What's your name?" She wouldn't give up.

>>>

>>>"Robert," I answered. "I'm Robert Peterson."

>>>

>>>"Mine's Wendy... I'm six."

>>>

>>>"Hi, Wendy."

>>>

>>>She giggled. "You're funny," she said.

>>>

>>>In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and walked on. Her musical giggle

>>>followed me.

>>>

>>>"Come again, Mr. P," she called. "We'll have another happy day."

>>>

>>>The next few days consisted of a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA

>>>meetings, and an ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took

>>>my

>>>hands out of the dishwater. I need a sandpiper, I said to myself,

>>>gathering up my coat.

>>>

>>>The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me. The breeze was

>>>chilly

>>>but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed.

>>>

>>>"Hell o, Mr. P," she said. "Do you want to play?"

>>>

>>>"What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.

>>>

>>>"I don't know. You say."

>>>

>>>"How about charades?" I asked sarcastically.

>>>

>>>The tinkling laughter burst forth again. "I don't know what that is."

>>>

>>>"Then let's just walk."

>>>

>>>Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face. "Where do

>>>you

>>>live?" I asked.

>>>

>>>"Over there." She pointed toward a row of summer cottages.

>>>

>>>Strange, I thought, in

>>>winter.

>>>

>>>"Where do you go to school?"

>>>

>>>"I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on vacation."

>>>

>>>She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my

>>>mind

>>>was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy

>>>day. Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.

>>>

>>>Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I

>>>was in

>>>no

>>>mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and

>>>felt

>

>>>like demanding she keep her child at home.

>>>

>>>"Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when Wendy caught up with

>>>me,

>>>"I'd rather be alone today." She seemed unusually pale and out of breath.

>>>

>>>"Why?" she asked.

>>>

>>>I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" and thought, My

>>>God, why was I saying this to a little child?

>>>

>>>"Oh," she said quietly,

>>>"then this is a bad day."

>>>

>>>"Yes," I said, "and yesterday and the day before and -- oh, go away!"

>>>

>>>"Did it hurt?" she inquired.

>>>

>>>"Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with her, with myself.

>>>

>>>"When she died?"

>>>

>>>"Of course it hurt!" I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in

>>>myself. I

>>>strode off.

>>>

>>>A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't

>>>there.

>>>Feeling guilty, ashamed, and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up

>>>to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking

>>>young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.

>>>

>>>"Hello," I said, "I'm Robert Peterson. I missed your little girl today

>>>and

>>>wondered where she was."

>>>

>>>"Oh yes, Mr. Peterson, please come in. Wendy spoke of you so much. I'm

>>>afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept

>>>my

>>>apologies."

>>>

>>>"Not at all -- she's a delightful child." I said, suddenly realizing

>>>that

>>>I meant what I had just said.

>>>

>>>"Wendy died last week, Mr. Peterson. She had leukemia. Maybe she

>>>didn't

>>>tell you."

>>>

>>>Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. I had to catch my breath.

>>>

>>>"She loved this beach, so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no.

>>>She

>>>seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days.

>>>But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly..." Her voice faltered, "She

>>>left something for you, if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment

>>>while I look?"

>>>

>>>I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something to say to this lovely

>>>young woman. She handed me a smeared envelope with "MR. P" printed in

>>>bold

>

>>>childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues -- a yellow

>>>beach,

>>>a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed:

>>>

>>>

>>>

>>>A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.

>>>

>>>

>>>

>>>Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to

>>>love

>>>opened wide. I took Wendy's mother in my arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm so

>>>sorry,

>>>I'm so sorry," I uttered over and over, and we wept together. The

>>>precious

>

>>>little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words -- one for

>>>each year of her life -- that speak to me of harmony, courage, and

>>>undemanding love.

>>>

>>>

>>>A gift from a child with sea blue eyes and hair the color of sand --

>>>who

>>>taught me the gift of love.

>>>

>>>

>>>

>>> _____

>>>

>>>

>>>NOTE: This is a true story sent out by Robert

>>>Peterson. It happened over 20 years ago and the incident changed his

>>>life

>>>forever. It serves as a reminder to all of us that we need to take time

>>>to

>

>>>enjoy living and life and each other. The price of hating other human

>>>beings is loving oneself less.

>>>

>>>Life is so complicated, the hustle and bustle of everyday traumas can

>>>make

>>>us lose focus about what is truly important or what is only a momentary

>>>setback or crisis.

>>>

>>>This week, be sure to give your loved ones an extra hug, and by all

>>>means,

>>>take a moment... even if it is only ten seconds, to stop and smell the

>>>roses.

>>>

>>>This comes from someone's heart, and is read with many and now I share

>>>it

>>>with you...

>>>

>>>May God Bless everyone who receives this! There are NO coincidences!

>>>

>>>Everything that happens to us happens for a reason. Never brush aside

>>>anyone as insignificant. Who knows what they can teach us?

>>>

>>>

>>>

>>>

>>>

>>>

>>>

>>>I wish for you, a sandpiper.

>>>

>>>

>>>

fritz

[swamprat]

I wish you a Sandpiper also my friend.

 

RR