The Sea

Maggie and Millie and Molly and May

by E.E. Cummings

Maggie and Millie and Molly and May

went down to the beach (to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang

so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star

whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing

which raced sideways blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone

as small as the world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)

It's always ourselves we find in the sea.

This is one of my all-time favorite poems, by my hands-down favorite poet. It's often on my mind when I'm near water, particularly near the ocean.

Last weekend, it struck me in an entirely different way than usual: it rang true!

I went to beach that day as a tired road warrior. I was exhausted from driving long hours. The kids had been whining in the car. I was ON EDGE- irritable at best. I found myself snapping at my kids over petty matters as I searched for a place to park. We unloaded out of the van as if it had been a precarious crash-landing.

But when we hit the beach it was like the ocean breeze blew off layer after layer of stress. I rejoiced in seeing my children wonder (and wander) along the beach. They'd never seen the ocean before. It was like so many of my fatherhood experiences; I'm able to see things again through a child's eyes.

And it was in this context that I was able to delight in my children amidst a long, arduous trip. They are beautiful; evidence as much of God's artistry as any oceanic find. But I'm grateful for this day- which will always be etched in my memory- as a present from one Father to another.

I will forever remember Ian's joyful laughter and Luke's excited shouts as they danced around in the waves. It was only a minute before they were both soaked and covered in sand from head to toe. We "hunted" for crabs and stumbled upon a few enormous sand crabs. We poked at them with sticks and they wiggled their legs at us.

I'll never forget Libby's smile and laughter when Joy snuggled with her. Libby and I crawled on the beach together and she tried to understand the texture of sand.

I took in a deep breath of ocean air and realized, "I'm really, really happy." And then I remembered the last line of the poem: "It's always ourselves we find in the sea."

It's always ourselves we find in the sea.