Life
Experiences of Bill McDonald
From the Book
"A Spiritual Warrior's Journey"
Out of the Mouths of Children
I was on a family
outing with some old friends and their two children, enjoying a rafting trip
down the American River not too far from Sacramento. We had been rafting under a
hot summer sun, and we pulled over to a beach to rest and have lunch. That is
when we heard shouting and saw some activity on the beach up the river.
Our friend Beverly, who had been walking ahead of me, was quickly on
the scene where two young men had pulled a 17-year-old boy from the river. The
young man was not breathing. His face was white and bluish as he lay motionless
on the ground. He looked like a dead person.
A group of young people with their heads bowed had gathered around
him. No one was moving to do anything to help revive the drowned boy whose time
was running out very quickly.
Beverly, who had just completed a Red Cross CPR class, was getting
ready to jump in and help. She was willing to do what she had been trained to
do, but she was not totally confident since she had never done this in a real
situation before. I told her to step aside and allow me. I had been a
professional lifeguard in my last year in the U.S. Army. I had some real-life
experiences and also had taken the class several times over the years. I knew I
could help. I knelt down and took the young man's head in my hands.
By this time, he looked very much dead. He must have been lying on
the beach for several minutes in this condition. He looked as bad as I have ever
seen someone who wasn't drowned beyond saving. I began mouth-to-mouth
resuscitation. I could feel his chest swell up and rise each time I pushed my
air into his lungs.
In my mind, I kept wondering why all these young people were not
doing anything and why they had just left their friend lying on the sandy beach.
I looked around and saw all these able-bodied teenagers still standing there
with their heads bowed. I was getting angry with them as I continued to force my
air into this young victim's lungs.
Finally, after what seemed several minutes, he coughed violently,
shooting a stream of vomit right into my mouth and up my nose. I gagged, but
only briefly stopped to clear my own mouth and nose. He then began to violently
vomit several more times, so I turned him over on his side to allow him to clear
out his lungs. At least a full cup of water came running out of his mouth as he
gasped and sat up.
He began getting his color back as he continued to cough and spit.
When he was fully alert, he stood up. All of his friends came over to hug him.
He was still kind of in a daze, but he was very much alive, no thanks to all of
his friends. I was a little annoyed by their lack of action, and I told them so.
They looked at me as I told them that I thought they should have been doing
something besides just bowing their heads.
"We were doing something, we were praying to Jesus to send us
someone who knew what he was doing to come and save him," one young man said.
"Well, what good did that do?" I arrogantly muttered back to him.
"You came, didn't
you? And you knew what to do! Can't you see, you were the answer to our
prayers."
I stood there
silently for several moments trying to collect myself. How could I not see that
these teenagers had actually done something? I was there at the right time and
the right place, and I knew what I was doing. I left feeling both humbled and
blessed at the same time. My only thought was that of a passage I had read in
the Bible: "Those whose glory above the heavens is chanted by the mouth of babes
and infants." Psalms 8:1-2.
#
Copyright 1998 - W. H. McDonald Jr.
