Sink or swim
By Michelle Martin
Water is the source of life, the symbol of grace that brings us into life with the Lord at baptism, the reminder that we use to bless ourselves when we enter church.
It also causes death. In 2002, 838 children ages one to 14 died by accidental drowning—the second leading cause of accidental death among children in the United States, according to the Centers for Disease Control.
Not wanting our children to be among them, we found ourselves on a steamy indoor pool deck at the local YMCA on a Saturday morning, observing their first swimming lesson.
Observation one: the swimming teacher, who has Frank’s class of preschoolers at 9 a.m. and Caroline’s class of primary-grade kids the next hour, has the patience of a saint, and, given the amount of time she spent holding Frank in the water, the job of St. Christopher. Watching other lessons going on at the same time, I observe that she is not alone. Young men and women, all of whom look like they were born wearing swimsuits, calmly take children from their parents, like cowboys separating calves from the herd, and encourage, cajole and persuade the kids to do things the kids seem to agree are just plain foolish, such as putting their faces in the water or letting go of the side of the pool.
Observation two: The teachers load the kids up with so much stuff—backpacks that float, floatation devices shaped like barbells, 6-foot long foam rubber “noodles”—that the kids would have to try very hard to actually sink. These props seem to reassure Frank, who was asking before the lesson whether this whole thing was such a good idea, knowing that he was too short to stand in the water, even at the shallow end.
With all that support—moral and physical—both kids had made real progress toward the goal of swimming independently by the end of their 45-minute classes. Clinging to their floaties with one hand, they reached forward with the other, the beginnings of an overhand stroke. They willingly kicked away from the side of the pool, and away from the teacher, and dipped their faces in and out of the water.
Make no mistake—they are nowhere near ready to swim on their own, but neither are they sinking. With the help of willing teachers, they see swimming as something they will be able to do in time. I don’t know how well they’ll do or how enthusiastic they’ll be. If one of them wants to join a swim team, fine; if not, they’ll at least be able to jump in at pool parties.
That support, it seems to me, is what faith offers to believers. It’s the hand you feel under your back as you try to float, the watchful eyes as you venture beyond your boundaries, the assurance that no matter what, you are made in the image of God, you matter and you are loved.
That’s the assurance that Pope John Paul II gave the faithful when he repeated, over and over, “Be not afraid.” If God is with us, who can be against us?
Michelle Martin is a Catholic New World staff writer.
