Many years ago, when our children were small, we camped often as my husband was a keen fisherman.
It was also the only way we could afford taking 4 children away on holiday or weekends as often as we did.
We set off one weekend as we often did, packed up the tent, pots, pans, gas stove (kitchen sink) and set off. A whole bunch of excited little kids.
We found a spot beside the dam we unhooked the boat and got it into the water, set the caravan up, and once the tents were attached to the caravan, we had a braai whilst the children ran around in the dark, chasing one another and just feeling good to be alive. I loved these times, I could almost reach out and touch their happiness.
The following afternoon we took the children for a ride in the boat, but during the afternoon the weather looked ominous, the sky darkened, the wind came up and the water of the dam became frighteningly choppy. We headed for the camp when my husband suddenly said, "isn't that someone in the water?" I could not see anyone at that stage. But as I focused on the place my husband was pointing to, there was a young teenage boy in the choppy lake. He had fallen overboard and was fast losing the battle to stay afloat.
We pulled him into our boat and took him back to his camp. His parents were very grateful, but for me, I still think of that young boy all those years ago, because my husband saved his life that day, who would have thought we would come by in that weather.
Where ever he is, I hope he is happy, successful and is making his life count for something.
That day is clearly etched in my mind, this small lad being tossed back and forth in an overwhelming dam that had quite suddenly become a death trap.
