Dipping My Feet in the River

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It isn’t often I dip my feet in the freezing water of a rushing river. Yesterday I did.  We drove towards home from Glenwood Springs.  Jedidiah stopped in Avon because I had said I wanted to put my feet in the river.

We traveled down the path from the rest stop to the bank of the Colorado River.  Max was too nervous to go very far, but Madeleine would have plunged in, all her entirety, if she could.  That’s the difference between my two children.  One is wildly brave and adventurous.  The other doesn’t like to get dirty.

Max stayed close to the bank.  He paced back and forth.  He clearly wanted to experience what we were doing, but fear held him near the edge.  Jedidiah helped Madeleine onto the large boulder in the water.  I was worried she’d slip in river’s water and be swept away by the current.  She had no fear.  She jumped from rock to rock without a care in the world.

For a moment I was afraid.  One slip could change everything.  I took a deep breath and found a smooth rock at the edge of the water.  I slipped off my flip flops and stuck my feet in the moving water. It was cold.  But it felt so gratifying.

I should sink my feet in unfamiliar water more often. Despite the fear that keeps some of us out of the water, we should seek to momentarily cast it aside doubts and worries and just dip our feet in river for a little while.

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