Falling to my Death...Maybe

By: Emily Robins

   Towards the beginning of my life, I was a three year old in 2005. My days consisted of waking up, getting dressed, and playing the whole day. It didn’t usually consist of falling to my death! It all started on one normal day with my older brother who was in Kindergarten and my mom. I didn’t see my dad in the mornings because he would leave for work. I’d then go with my mom and drop my brother off at school. Then, I would have the whole rest of the day to play by myself, but sometimes I played with my mom.

 After my brother got home, my mom decided to take us to a river up in Zions with her friend and kids. I was really excited to play in the dirt and mud! Once we arrived, we all got out and went to go play by the river, but swimming was not supposed to happen that day! I was having the time of my life, playing in the mud and dirt with my brother and some friends. I watched the river as it rushed by, wave after wave. I would refer to that river as chocolate milk because of all the dirt that was in it. Though I didn't like any kind of milk at the time, I still called rivers that!

  As we begun to play, all of us little kids would slowly move closer and closer to the river, and every time, our moms would tell us to move back. As we made mud piles and mud pies, I walked close towards the river and slipped on mud. I thought I was okay until I saw I was in the river. As you might know, three year old don’t usually know how to swim, and so they drown if they land somewhere where they can’t touch. Screams ran out of my mouth as my mom saw me and put the word fright across her forehead. I was scared and so was my mom.

  After I had fallen in, I was flowing down stream and almost under water while my mom jumped in and started swimming towards me. My mom was super amazing at that time because she was pregnant and she jumped into a river to save her daughter. As she swam towards me, I continued to cry like rain drops falling from the dark clouds. My mom grabbed me and held me tight as my mom’s friend helped us out of the river.

  
In a nutshell, that one day I thought I was going to die, but I didn’t which is the good thing about this story. The only thing that we lost that day was my mom’s shoe, and it still might be there in that river. But I always remember my mom telling me, “I rather have lost that shoe than lost you!” I love my mom very much for saving my life, and for that, she has been my hero ever since. The only thing I can really tell you from that experience is, only go close to a river if you know how to swim or you have a hero around. To conclude, you might not know your hero, but I know mine, and that is my own mom.