PICHILEMU, MY CHILEAN HOME, is known as the Capital of the Surf. People come from all over the world to ride our waves. My husband, Mitch, and I have lived here since the eldest of our five children was a baby, surfing and spreading the Gospel, living it in our home as well. A couple Easters ago, I was especially focused on our youngest, 13-year-old Katrina. She and I had been talking about Easter in preparation for the upcoming service, but I wasn’t sure how much had really gotten through. Katrina has Down syndrome, and she often had trouble making herself understood. How could I know my daughter’s questions so I could fully convey the power of the Easter message?
“Why don’t we go to the beach?” I said. Floating on our surfboards in God’s ocean seemed a pretty good place to talk about miracles.
“Yay!” Katrina said and ran off to find her powder-blue board. She was a strong swimmer on the local team and a good surfer too. That was no surprise in my family—Mitch would rather surf than eat, and I’d been a lifeguard for years in California. Katrina had a childlike wonder about the sea. Sandcastles, surfing, starfish—all were magical to her. Through her eyes, it was magical to me too.
This story is from the April 2020 edition of Guideposts.
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This story is from the April 2020 edition of Guideposts.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
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