A Maiden Voyage

I looked sadly at the large tree limb as it lay where the storm had tossed it in my front yard. The sugar maple that lost this large limb is a beautiful, mature tree that shades our house in summer and anchors our Christmas decorations in winter. Although it caused no additional damage as it fell, I regretted the lost beauty that would take years to reemerge.

This reminded me of another capricious act of nature when I was a child. Our basement, the only one on the block, filled with storm drainage whenever we had an exceptionally strong storm. The last time this occurred, I stood on the basement steps and watched Dad wade through knee-deep water. Dad pushed his way to the boat that he had nearly finished building as it floated away from its sawhorse supports. When he reached the boat, he turned it and pushed it to the doorway where I watched.

“Hop in,” Dad said encouragingly. My brother and I got into the boat that had never even been damp before and Dad pushed us through the basement. When our ride ended, we ran and told our friends. Word spread and soon a line extended up the steps into the garage. Kids that we had never seen before and never saw since stood patiently in line, waiting for their boat ride in our basement. Dad never complained and took each child for a boat tour of our flooded basement in an episode that still lives in neighborhood legend. Inspired by my father’s unspoken lesson, I began cutting up the tree limb.

Weeks later, I served my “sugar maple smoked chicken breast” to my friends at a church dinner and accepted their praise with grace.

“Thanks again, Dad,” I thought, each time I received a compliment.

Bill Bartlett lives in Belton with his wife, Sandi, and their two sons.