June means lake time!

I grew up in central Florida in a rural community about 45 minutes away from the beach. As a young teenager, I didn't get that many opportunities to hang out at the beach, so the next best thing was swimming at Lake Iola. 

The lake was about 10 miles down the road from our church and our youth group took advantage of its proximity to plan our get-togethers as swim parties. 

(We also had swim parties at Mrs. Bates' house where there was a great in-ground pool; but those are stories for another day.) 

The truth is, I was not a strong swimmer. My talent was floating, and I loved floating even better if I had some type of inner tube or raft to clutch.

I was strictly there for the socialization; and cooling off in the water while floating around talking to my friends seemed wonderful fun.

Until one day it wasn't.

Details now are fuzzy; but somehow I had floated into deep water around the other side of the dock. My friends were all facing the other direction and didn't notice I was no longer with them. I tried to swim back to the group, but slipped off the floatie and couldn't recapture it.

Treading water, I realized I was making no progress, so began to call for help. No one was listening!

Well, one person was listening. A stranger, a boy appearing to be about 16 years old, swam over to me. 

"Please help me get back to the shallow water, I  don't swim very well," I said as I bobbed up and down in the water.

The boy said nothing but proceeded to pat me down with his hands!

I wanted to yell at him, but by now I was out of breath. He then grabbed my arm and started pulling me to shore. I began to be frightened wondering what would happen when we got to shore; but as soon as our feet touched the sandy bottom, he shoved me towards the beach and swam off.

Ever a polite person, I yelled back, "Thank you!"

I can't believe I thanked a person for frisking me! But at least, I'm alive to tell the story.

Decades later, going to the lake is one of my favorite things to do. I now live in the Midwest and actually go to the lake to relax and decompress often. 

But I do it sitting lakeside.

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It's been ages since I participated in Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop. I saw her prompt, "Tell us about the lake you used to swim in when you were a kid," and remembered this incident. I had to write and share because it's the first time I ever told anyone about something that made me feel so foolish.

I'm also sharing this at Grace & Truth because it's the grace of God I didn't drown or nothing worse happened. And, to anyone taking a group of friends to the lake, keep an eye out for your less-than-strong swimmers. They could get in trouble when you are not looking.

All photos created in PicMonkey by Jerralea using personal, family and stock photos. Please do not copy. 

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Thanks for dropping by the Journey!  I want to always share my post, A Ticket Home, for those who might not know the Way Home.

Also, check out the latest from Jerralea.com

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