Adventures of Average Boy: Why My Mom Hates Summer
by Sammie, 13, from Arizona
This summer was one of the hottest on record in Texas. So Billy, my best friend, convinced me to join our town’s newest (and only) swim team. So far, the team is me, Billy and anyone else who happens to be at the pool. (My brother isn’t allowed to swim with me after last year’s incident with the dog and the inflatable pool.)
Membership to our new team is—believe it or not—free! Billy says that once the 250 flyers we put up around town start working, people might actually stop laughing at us and we can raise the membership price a few bucks. So if anyone is looking for a swim team, we have plenty of openings!
Anyway, one day while the town’s newest and only swim team was practicing, I tried to do a flip-kick that was sure to win points from the judges . . . if we ever competed. Unfortunately, I bumped my head against the side of the pool. Everything went fuzzy and I started to sink. Billy saw me and—without thinking of the danger—dove in to save me.
When I came to, my head hurt pretty bad. But my back hurt even worse. Apparently, Billy tried to give me CPR, but he got it backward. I was still extremely grateful to him for saving my life, though. I thanked him over and over again.
As I iced my back, I realized that someone else had saved me, too. Jesus had saved my soul. But how often did I thank Him? Not nearly enough.
I hope I get better soon. I want to try out for the diving team!
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