It was a beautiful sunny Sunday morning; it seemed as if the sun shone brighter than normal. It was a perfect day to go to the beach. Sunday was always a special day for Malique who was only three years old and I; it was the day of the week that Malique looked forward to most, with curious anticipation. Sunday was also the day the enthusiastic child got to spend all day with his father.
The two of us always engaged in lots of fun activities. Malique was sure that his dad had some wonderful adventure planed for the day. After breakfast Malique noticed that I was cleaning the car. The energetic child decided to join me in the task of preparing the car for the day’s activities. Although Malique was of little use in the task at hand I love and I was happy just to have him around, even when he got in the way.
“Daddy, what are we going to do today?” asked Malique as he looked at me with searching eyes. I did not think it mattered what activity I chose; what was important was, he got to be with me.
“We will be going to the beach,” I said in reply to his question.
Immediately a twinkle of excitement appeared in Malique’s eyes. He ran into the house and to his mother, and with a blaze of enthusiasm he shouted, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Daddy is going to take me to the beach, can you help me get ready?” Malique's Mother Maria was only too happy to help her dear son get ready for his adventure.
With all the commotion the young boy was making, you would have thought that the beach was the most wonderful place in the entire world. It was my custom to take Malique to the beach very early in the morning, when I was off duty before school, Yet he was as excited as ever.
“Daddy, what are we going to do today?” asked Malique as he looked at me with searching eyes. I did not think it mattered what activity I chose; what was important was, he got to be with me.
“We will be going to the beach,” I said in reply to his question.
Immediately a twinkle of excitement appeared in Malique’s eyes. He ran into the house and to his mother, and with a blaze of enthusiasm he shouted, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Daddy is going to take me to the beach, can you help me get ready?” Malique's Mother Maria was only too happy to help her dear son get ready for his adventure.
With all the commotion the young boy was making, you would have thought that the beach was the most wonderful place in the entire world. It was my custom to take Malique to the beach very early in the morning, when I was off duty before school, Yet he was as excited as ever.
The beach was two miles away, Indian Bay was a small white-sand beach; it was just about 250 meters long. There was not much room for playing, for there was a retaining wall one-meter high with a one-and-a-half meters security wire fence erected at the top of the wall. This structure was designed to keep picnickers off the private property that bordered the beach.
About 20 meters from the shore there were two small islands that acted as a shelter for the beach. Immediately in front of the beach was the smaller of the two islands; this island had a few trees growing on it and there was also a humongous white cross erected in its center the Tomb of Mr. Defraitas. Hence the reason I called the island Cross Island. Cross Island rose about five meters above the level of the sea. This Island acted as a little challenge for people who had just learned how to swim; to swim to and from Cross Island was quite an accomplishment.
On the South-East of Cross Island were the second and the larger of the two Islands. This island was very high rock. This high rock was about 40 meters from the shore. It was a very large, barren, and dense volcanic rock that had many ridges and cracks. This rock stood about thirty meters above the level of the sea. To swim and climb to the top of the big rock was an experience, but the challenge was to jump and plummet into a free-fall landing into the deep blue sea that spread out like a carpet below.
Finally it was time to leave for the beach. The duo got into the car and off we went. The beach was half an hour away. I was as excited as my son was. I anticipated having tons of fun at the beach with my son. It was my plan to start Malique’s swimming lessons when we got to the beach.
At the beach my son and I had tons of fun; we frolicked and swam, they built sand castles or what they called sand castles, which was washed away by the wave that regularly bathe the shore and in whose part they were erected. Malique had his swimming lesson. All of the activities wore out the young child; he was tired. I saw an opportunity to go for a little swim on his own.
Malique was sitting on a stone; he was exhausted but excitement still gleamed from his eyes. I walked up too and spoke to the tired child.
“Malique,” I said, “I am going for a swim. I want you to sit on this rock. I don’t want you to move, no matter what happens. Do you understand?”
“Yes, daddy,” the shivering child said.
I knew that Malique could not swim, and if he ventured into the water unsupervised he could drown. That would be a tragedy. The death of a child is one tragedy no loving parent would like to have in his or her family. I had to make sure that my son understood me before he ventured out for his swim.
Malique sat on the stone and watched as I swam back and forth. Malique wanted to join me in the water, but he was too tired to join in the fun. I swam to Cross Island and back, and Malique made no attempt to leave his very comfortable seat on the rock.
All appeared well Malique sat on the rock and he looked quite comfortable, he did not once attempted to come into the sea. I decided to take a swim out to the high rock and climb to the top of the rock. I jumped from the top of the rock into the clear blue water below. I did this several times. This activity was very exhausting. Finally I climbed to the top of the high rock and took a seat to rest. From this position on the top of the island I had a clear view of my only son sitting comfortably and undisturbed on the stone. Malique could also see me from his seat. I could imagine that Malique hoped for the day when he could join me on the top of the high rock.
While on the top of the High Rock, I noticed that something strange was happening on the beach. I noticed that everyone was running to and fro, but eventually everyone ran into the water. Screams could be heard coming from the beach.
On the South-East of Cross Island were the second and the larger of the two Islands. This island was very high rock. This high rock was about 40 meters from the shore. It was a very large, barren, and dense volcanic rock that had many ridges and cracks. This rock stood about thirty meters above the level of the sea. To swim and climb to the top of the big rock was an experience, but the challenge was to jump and plummet into a free-fall landing into the deep blue sea that spread out like a carpet below.
Finally it was time to leave for the beach. The duo got into the car and off we went. The beach was half an hour away. I was as excited as my son was. I anticipated having tons of fun at the beach with my son. It was my plan to start Malique’s swimming lessons when we got to the beach.
At the beach my son and I had tons of fun; we frolicked and swam, they built sand castles or what they called sand castles, which was washed away by the wave that regularly bathe the shore and in whose part they were erected. Malique had his swimming lesson. All of the activities wore out the young child; he was tired. I saw an opportunity to go for a little swim on his own.
Malique was sitting on a stone; he was exhausted but excitement still gleamed from his eyes. I walked up too and spoke to the tired child.
“Malique,” I said, “I am going for a swim. I want you to sit on this rock. I don’t want you to move, no matter what happens. Do you understand?”
“Yes, daddy,” the shivering child said.
I knew that Malique could not swim, and if he ventured into the water unsupervised he could drown. That would be a tragedy. The death of a child is one tragedy no loving parent would like to have in his or her family. I had to make sure that my son understood me before he ventured out for his swim.
Malique sat on the stone and watched as I swam back and forth. Malique wanted to join me in the water, but he was too tired to join in the fun. I swam to Cross Island and back, and Malique made no attempt to leave his very comfortable seat on the rock.
All appeared well Malique sat on the rock and he looked quite comfortable, he did not once attempted to come into the sea. I decided to take a swim out to the high rock and climb to the top of the rock. I jumped from the top of the rock into the clear blue water below. I did this several times. This activity was very exhausting. Finally I climbed to the top of the high rock and took a seat to rest. From this position on the top of the island I had a clear view of my only son sitting comfortably and undisturbed on the stone. Malique could also see me from his seat. I could imagine that Malique hoped for the day when he could join me on the top of the high rock.
While on the top of the High Rock, I noticed that something strange was happening on the beach. I noticed that everyone was running to and fro, but eventually everyone ran into the water. Screams could be heard coming from the beach.
From where I was perched, I searched the beach with worried eyes and I wondered what could be happening. I began to panic because I was concerned for Malique's safety. My heart pounded with fear; I feared for the safety of his beloved son. I knew there was danger on the beach but I was totally unaware of what the danger was.
I looked at his son and noticed him still sitting on the rock looking in the direction of the people as they ran and screamed. I was tempted to jump off of the large rock, but I still did not know what the danger was. It would have taken me a few minutes at the least to get to his son. The swim seemed as if it would last an eternity.
Just then I saw a large vicious-looking Rottweiler running along the beach unleashed. Now the powerful, angry and ferocious bark of the dog could be heard, and there was a man running frantically behind the dog with an unattached leash in his hand. Now, there were only two people on the shore: they were the man with the leash in his hand desperately chasing the dog that have gotten off of its leash and Malique. I was petrified when I saw the dog ran toward the helpless little boy: my son, who my responsibility. As a result, I felt a large lump in my throat, that made him feel as it I was suffocating. I was not suffocating but I was terrorfied by the thought of what could probable happen.
I helplessly felt my heart pounded harder and faster than ever before. Although no harm has come to the child as yet; I blamed myself for anything that might happen to my defenseless son. I was helpless and a sense of hopelessness overtook me. If I was there, using my bare hands I would have ripped that vicious dog to shreds to protect my son, but there was nothing that I could do from where I was. There was nothing Malique could do, there was nowhere for the frightened child to run. If he ran into the sea he would drown, since he could not swim, and if he followed the last instruction I gave him, he would be mauled by the vicious dog. It was a hopeless situation. I knew that Rottweiler and children were not a good combination, as this breed of dog is known to be very aggressive toward children.
Just then I said, “Lord Jesus, you are the only one who can protect my son. Please keep him safe.” I never once took my eyes off the events that were unfolding on the beach, even whenI uttered the prayer for his son’s protection.
The vicious dog ran faster and faster toward Malique and as he got closer to the unattended child, who was still sitting on the rock, the frightening growl of the angry dog could be heard even louder. The people in the sea watched with horror as the ferocious dog approached the helpless child. When the fierce dog got close enough to launch an attack, he stopped, looked at the child, smelt him, then turned away and went toward the sea and continued to bark at the people in the sea.
I breathed a sigh of relief and dived from the top of the high rock with his hand outstretched and pointing down at the sea. The anxious father hands made contact with the sea water first, then his head, shoulder then his whole body was swiftly submerged into the deep blue see. I hurriedly swam to the shore, dispensing every bit of energy I had in my effort. When in anxiety I got to the shore, the dog had already been put back on his leash and was removed from the beach. I was thankful that Malique was safe. I ran up to where my son Malique was. he was still sitting on the rock where I left him, as if nothing had happened.
“Are you Okay, Malique?” I nervously asked him, trying his best to reflect the level calm my brave and obedient son now exhibited
“Yes daddy,” the child answered, with a sense of calm in his voice that was seen on his face and that which his demeanor now reflected.
“Were you afraid of the dog?” I calmly asked.
“Yes daddy” Malique replied.
“Why didn’t you run like every one else?” the father asked, anxious to hear his son’s answer.
From the way Malique looked at me, I could have tell the lad was puzzled by the question “Daddy, you told me not to move from here no matter what happened,” the lad replied with a naïve childish innocence.
I then held my obedient son close to his heart and squeezed him. Under his breath I said thank you Jesus.
I looked at his son and noticed him still sitting on the rock looking in the direction of the people as they ran and screamed. I was tempted to jump off of the large rock, but I still did not know what the danger was. It would have taken me a few minutes at the least to get to his son. The swim seemed as if it would last an eternity.
Just then I saw a large vicious-looking Rottweiler running along the beach unleashed. Now the powerful, angry and ferocious bark of the dog could be heard, and there was a man running frantically behind the dog with an unattached leash in his hand. Now, there were only two people on the shore: they were the man with the leash in his hand desperately chasing the dog that have gotten off of its leash and Malique. I was petrified when I saw the dog ran toward the helpless little boy: my son, who my responsibility. As a result, I felt a large lump in my throat, that made him feel as it I was suffocating. I was not suffocating but I was terrorfied by the thought of what could probable happen.
I helplessly felt my heart pounded harder and faster than ever before. Although no harm has come to the child as yet; I blamed myself for anything that might happen to my defenseless son. I was helpless and a sense of hopelessness overtook me. If I was there, using my bare hands I would have ripped that vicious dog to shreds to protect my son, but there was nothing that I could do from where I was. There was nothing Malique could do, there was nowhere for the frightened child to run. If he ran into the sea he would drown, since he could not swim, and if he followed the last instruction I gave him, he would be mauled by the vicious dog. It was a hopeless situation. I knew that Rottweiler and children were not a good combination, as this breed of dog is known to be very aggressive toward children.
Just then I said, “Lord Jesus, you are the only one who can protect my son. Please keep him safe.” I never once took my eyes off the events that were unfolding on the beach, even whenI uttered the prayer for his son’s protection.
The vicious dog ran faster and faster toward Malique and as he got closer to the unattended child, who was still sitting on the rock, the frightening growl of the angry dog could be heard even louder. The people in the sea watched with horror as the ferocious dog approached the helpless child. When the fierce dog got close enough to launch an attack, he stopped, looked at the child, smelt him, then turned away and went toward the sea and continued to bark at the people in the sea.
I breathed a sigh of relief and dived from the top of the high rock with his hand outstretched and pointing down at the sea. The anxious father hands made contact with the sea water first, then his head, shoulder then his whole body was swiftly submerged into the deep blue see. I hurriedly swam to the shore, dispensing every bit of energy I had in my effort. When in anxiety I got to the shore, the dog had already been put back on his leash and was removed from the beach. I was thankful that Malique was safe. I ran up to where my son Malique was. he was still sitting on the rock where I left him, as if nothing had happened.
“Are you Okay, Malique?” I nervously asked him, trying his best to reflect the level calm my brave and obedient son now exhibited
“Yes daddy,” the child answered, with a sense of calm in his voice that was seen on his face and that which his demeanor now reflected.
“Were you afraid of the dog?” I calmly asked.
“Yes daddy” Malique replied.
“Why didn’t you run like every one else?” the father asked, anxious to hear his son’s answer.
From the way Malique looked at me, I could have tell the lad was puzzled by the question “Daddy, you told me not to move from here no matter what happened,” the lad replied with a naïve childish innocence.
I then held my obedient son close to his heart and squeezed him. Under his breath I said thank you Jesus.
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