3995
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 in order to
share the following with you tonight.
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. Well, after she 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 the kids sat bare-legged on
the floor, a well-meaning young man, a lifeguard, offered to read the children a
poem; 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 Laura, and a few of her young companions remained,
and 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 the words. The rain fell in droves now, and it seemed to
Laura 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 children seemed to
sit silently for a brief moment, as if to transcend the hundred, or so stanzas
which had so transfixed them. And then it was time to head home.
Laura picked up
her towel, and began the short walk to her house. In spite of the depth and
darkness of the subject matter, this young girl who left shallow footprints on
that old dirt road which took her home, was suddenly very unlike the child who
had sat down cross-legged on that cold tile floor. Her very soul thrilled
within her to realize, even at this young age, what she wished to do with her
life; what she had to do with her life. As surely as the account of lightning
in the old poem mirrored the actual lightning which enveloped the afternoon
sky, Laura was filled to overflowing with insight. She 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.”
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