True valor

At first, he wanted nothing to do with the water. Being in the kayak with Daddy was okay, and throwing leftovers off the neighbor's dock to feed the fish was fun. But with its turbid water and critters that would occasionally brush past his ankles, the creek was just a little too mysterious for his liking. If Caleb wanted to splash, he'd wait for our weekly trips to the kiddie pool, where he could see straight through to the bottom and the only thing that brushed up against him would be another toddler.

But Abby desperately wanted a playmate. It was no fun swimming over to the sandbar and building sandcastles by herself. So she encouraged him, each time we'd trek down to the water, to go a little farther. She sat with him as he put his toes in and buried his legs. He held her hand and allowed her to lead him in until the water reached his waist, then bid her farewell as he headed back to shore, and to the safety of the familiar.

And then one day, he felt just brave enough.

"Will you hold my hand, Abby?" he asked his sister, when she invited him to go over to the sandbar with her.

She told him she would, in a tone that let me know she was going to take this responsibility very seriously. I warned him that it was going to get deeper, up to his shoulders at one point, but that his life jacket would hold him up, and his sister would not let go of his hand.

"I'll take care of my brother," Abby added.

So they walked, hand in hand, into the water. Their toes disappeared below them, and Caleb paused to get used to how far his feet would sink into the muddy creek bed. Abby tugged him gently and told him to keep going. They made their way to the middle, a few feet from shore, and a few feet from the sandbar, and fear took hold of Caleb as the water became chest-deep.

"Don't let go, Abby!" he yelled. And she didn't. She told him they were almost there, and she tugged at his arm until his feet found the shore of the sandbar.

Later, she took his hand and walked him back over to where I was sitting, through the water, and he wasn't as scared this time. They repeated the parade a few more times, until one time I looked up to see my little guy headed back toward me all by himself.

Now, when he wants to go to the sandbar, he doesn't think twice about it. He's tested out different routes, and found where the water is shallower and where the slippery rocks are. He goes back and forth, carrying dump trucks and shovels over to his spot in the middle of the creek for the mud and pebble excavation he's working on.

Sometimes you just need someone to hold your hand for a while.