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=  I Believe in Building Sandcastles =

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I believe in building sand castles. Any well rounded child has done it. Spent an afternoon on the beach with a bag full of plastic pails and miniature shovels. To any passerby a child’s sandcastle might not be anything more than a pile of sand, but to the child that built it, it’s the greatest fortress. I’ve built many sandcastles in my life, but it wasn’t until last summer when I went to a beach in Mexico with my youngest cousin that I realized the true power of sandcastles, and the little hands that make them.

 My cousin Noble is the runt of the family, born 12 years after the grandchild before him. He is spoiled, and often slightly tortured, by every uncle and cousin he’s got. On this particular day he set forth to build himself a lavish sand castle. One with towers and batteries, a mote and a courtyard. I spent the afternoon helping him, following his instructions about the right way to do every little thing. He was the expert now, and I was just the manual labor. As the day began to come to its close, Noble had to learn a lesson that all children learn at some point. High tide is a sand castle’s worst nightmare. He struggled against the cruel humor of nature, trying vigorously to defend each wall he had so soundly constructed. Fighting as each wave came closer and closer to destroying his mighty little fortress. I sunk my toes into the warm sand and sipped on my cool beer. I knew the end was near. As the sun became pink and dipped slowly into the ocean, I watched. My cousin, his body as exhausted as his spirits, ran up the beach to his mother, with tears streaming down his face. I thought to myself, “what cruelty  this is to a five year old boy. That against every defense he set up, nothing could stop the power of the world.”

 Minutes later, as the last of my cousin’s mighty watch towers joined the rest of his empire as simple sand on the beach; he walked over and  sat in my lap. His eyes were puffy and red, but his tears had stopped.

 “Sorry about your castle buddy,” I told him, thinking that no words could solve his grief. But then again little hearts can surprise you.

 “It’s alright Sam, it was a good castle. Mommy said so, and I think it was too.”

 This child had poured his heart into a sand castle that was now erased forever, but he learned a lesson that most of us have forgotten. The  rewards of a well lived day are not in the product, but in the process. Sitting on that beach my cousin realized that every grain of sand starts  the day off as just that, a grain of sand; even if at the end of the day we’ve change it into something much more. At the end of that day he  changed it into something that made him proud, even if he would never see it again.

 As we walked home my cousin told me one more thing.

“Besides, tomorrow we can come back and build it again.”

 I am a 4th year Junior on a 6 year plan, but don't tell my father that. I'm an Economics major that would rather be writing.....we should probably keep that one from my pops too. I've been going to Mexico with my family for as long as I can remember, and every time is more memorable than the last. The family keeps growing, and the grandkids are getting old enough to drink, so I can't wait to go back and see what happens.