SELFLESS SERVICE

3951

"Brothers and sisters, imitate me, and pay attention to those who live by the example we have given you." (Philippians 3:17)

Laura Hillenbrand, the author of “Seabiscuit,” gave an interview sometime after her book was written, and had sailed to the top of the New York Times Best Seller List. I will never forget the book, or the interview. I have long since misplaced my copy of the book, and I haven’t been able to locate the portion of the interview which contains the following account. As a result, it has been necessary for me to rewrite a summary of her words from memory.

It seems that when Laura Hillenbrand was a little girl she happened to be at the neighborhood pool one day; the same activity I also used to enjoy. (And now we pick up her story.)

"After I had swam awhile, a thunderstorm arose, and the majority of the children ran for cover into a screened-in porch; adjacent to the pool. As us kids sat bare-legged on the floor, a well-meaning young man, a lifeguard, offered to read a poem to us; not just any poem, but one of the longest, and most poignant poems of all time, 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.' You can imagine that many of the children opted to collect their things, and head off for home, in spite of the light rain and thunder. But a few of my young companions remained, and we were soon engrossed in the young man’s grisly tale.

The lifeguard read stanza after stanza of the poem, and the more he read, the more horrendous and awe-inspiring were his words. The rain fell in droves now, and it seemed to me that the crack of lightning, and the boom of thunder, served to accent the dark adjectives which so easily rolled off the young man’s lips.

You see, 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner' recounts the fictional voyage of a couple hundred unfortunate sailors on an old sailing ship. Not so different from Paul’s account in the Book of Acts, the ancient vessel is overcome by an intense storm, but in this case, there is a significant loss of life.

As the young fellow finished reading the poem, and put down the book, the few of us who remained seemed to sit silently for a brief moment, as if to transcend the hundred, or so stanzas which had so transfixed us. And then it was time for me to head home.

I picked up my towel, and began the short walk to my house. In spite of the depth and darkness of the subject matter, I was no longer the child who sat down cross-legged on that cold tile floor. My very soul thrilled within me to realize, even at my young age, what I wished to do with my life. As surely as the account of lightning in the old poem mirrored the actual lightning which enveloped the afternoon sky, I had been filled to overflowing with insight. I would become an author."

And the world renown author commented at the end of this particular segment of the interview, “I never knew the name of that young man who selflessly offered to read to a few young children on a little porch by a neighborhood pool, but what he did for me that day, though of course he had no way of knowing, the time and topic he shared with me that day, well, it made all the difference in my life. I would not, could not, have been the same person I am today. My life would not have turned out as it has, without the momentary contribution of that selfless young man.”

by William McDonald, PhD