You Reap What You Sow

Dear Boo and Bubble,

Unless you like torrential rain and swirling winds, the weather here today is miserable. And so, like on other such days I’ve resorted to combing through boxes that have been laying around for years in the hopes of finding what should be kept and what should be purged. Most times this routine produces nothing surprising, but on occasion I come across a real unexpected…and long forgotten…jewel. Today’s treasure hunt revealed a small, blue composition book that from what I can surmise by the entries in it, I must have bought in Belize around 2006. At that time, Captain and I were cruising on our sailboat Up Jinks.

The handwritten scribblings are random, and they bounce around from recollections of our travels throughout Belize and Guatemala to original lyrics of songs and poetic endeavors on my part. Many are seeds of ideas that later blossomed into full blown articles for the travel website we published at the time. It’s really interesting to reconnect to words penned fourteen years ago and see how they refresh forgotten memories and events.

I want to share one entry with you and then I’ll make my point afterwards. (Meemaw always has a point, you know!)

March 22, 2006 in Placencia, Belize –

Witnessed something today at the dinghy dock in Placencia. I was sitting in our dinghy while Captain was buying gas and filling the sunshower bag with water.

“Jesus Christ!!”

The exasperated cry came from a man’s voice further on down the dock and caused me to look up in that direction. A rather heavyset woman stood on the dock holding the painter to a dinghy. Still in the dinghy were the irritated utterer of the Lord’s name—himself a very obese fellow—and a young girl who was obviously their child and had inherited her chubbiness from both these people. She was attempting to disembark the dinghy and get onto the dock. The span of several feet made it almost impossible for her to get a knee onto the dock for leverage. Once she did, her full girth kept her from sliding forward. There were no cleats to grab hold of. The only thing available was her mother’s hand which proved woefully insufficient but did provide some assistance as she flailed away. . 

Her father’s audible grousing only made things worse and I’m sure she sensed me watching along with all of the service hands at the gas pumps. It was a universally shared embarrassment for any woman who once was an awkward, dumpy teenager trying to navigate her body in such a situation.

The mother, caught between helping her daughter and shushing her husband, was rendered basically helpless.

Finally, the child heaved herself onto the dock, rolled over on her back and pushed herself up to stand. She then glanced around, pretending nothing unusual had just happened.

It came time for the father to step out. All of his body language, accentuated by his outrage, signaled that he would show her how it’s done. To my secret delight, he stumbled over the dinghy seat and fell flat on his face. With the unsteady dinghy swaying underneath him, he floundered around like a walrus trying to regain his footing, almost tipping over into the water.

I wanted to yell out, “Jesus Christ!!” But I didn’t. It wasn’t my place and I figured Jesus probably had more pressing things to worry about.

For the life of me, though, I couldn’t fathom why a father would ever want to humiliate his daughter like that, no matter how mad her clumsiness made him.

My point is, boys, you reap what you sow. That father had it coming to him. I think he caught Jesus’ attention when he yelled his blaspheme and in typical fashion, Jesus handled the situation to ultimate effect. Whenever you see someone struggling, help them. Don’t call unneeded attention to them or make fun. Help them. Particularly when it’s somebody you’re supposed to love.

Humbly help them.