Summer days

January 16, 2025
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The summer sun danced on the rippling waters of Cultus Lake, casting shimmering patterns that looked like fragments of gold. We were on my friend’s boat that day—myself, a close guy friend, and two girls. The air was alive with laughter and the thrill of an afternoon on the water.

As we prepared to push off from the dock, another boy—a little younger, maybe, or perhaps just a little less sure of himself—ran up to the bow. “Wait!” he called out, his voice bright with hope as he reached for the front of the boat and tried to climb on.

I had just untied us and was giving a final push to shove off from the dock. His hand grabbed the edge, and for a moment, his face hovered there, lit with the eagerness of someone who just wanted to be part of it all. But instead of helping him up, I reached out and pushed him back—straight into the lake.

The splash broke the moment, and his expression was burned into my memory even before I turned away. I justified it to myself with the truth: there were only four seats in the boat, and we were full. But even then, that truth felt hollow, like a flimsy shield against a growing sense of regret.

As we drifted into deeper water, I watched the ripples fan out from where he had fallen. They spread slowly, disappearing into the wider lake, but I couldn’t shake the thought that I had sent more than just a boy into the water that day. I had sent kindness overboard. I had chosen rules (cruelty) over a moment of generosity.

I don’t even remember how the rest of that boat ride went—whether we laughed, whether the girls splashed water at one another, or whether the sun felt warm on my face. All I remember is his face, the flash of surprise and disappointment. And the weight of the silence that followed his fall.

Even now, when I think back to that moment, I wish I had acted differently. Maybe it was a small thing—a boy falling into the water, a boat with too few seats—but it taught me something big. Kindness doesn’t always follow the rules. Sometimes, it means making space where there is none.