A Not So Relaxing Beach Trip

Most people think of springtime as warm and sunny, but during the early part of the season in northwestern Pennsylvania, the winds coming off the frozen lake keep the region in a prolonged winter-like state. Every once in a while, however, a warm front moves in, and the March temperatures can climb to sixty degrees or higher.

This was one of those days. Tessa had been sent home from work early because her boss wanted to enjoy the nice weather and get some yard work done. On this particular day, the temperature was expected to reach at least seventy degrees. Tessa had retrieved her four-year-old daughter, Cece, from daycare and brought her to the beach. She wanted to show Cece the remarkable sight of waves frozen in mid-crash, a natural wonder that defied the warm, sunny day.

“Look at the water, Cece!” Tessa exclaimed.

“What happened to it?” Cece asked, her mind absorbing every bit of information around her like a sponge.

“It’s frozen! Like a giant ice cube! The first time I saw the frozen lake, I was just about your age,” Tessa told her daughter. It really was quite a sight to behold. Only a few clouds dotted the blue sky, and the sun streamed down, warming their skin. Though the air temperature at the beach was significantly cooler than where they lived, about 20 miles inland, it still seemed too warm to see so much ice.

The sun warmed Tessa's face, while the gentle breeze carried a sweet, floral scent, hinting at the imminent arrival of summer. The beauty of nature surrounding them filled Tessa with joy and a profound sense of peace. She was eager to share this unique experience with her little girl. Cece giggled with delight as seagulls swooped down, their wings slicing through the air, before perching gracefully on the tips of the ice.

Cece helped Tessa look for beach glass and put it into a bucket. Tessa used them to make jewelry in her spare time. She searched for the brightest colored pieces, their surfaces smoothed and edges rounded by the process of being repeatedly tumbled by the surf against the sand and jagged rocks. Tessa found a couple of nice cobalt blue pieces, a few bright green, and several aqua. She would occasionally pick up white or brown pieces depending on their quality, but they were so common that she already had more than enough at home.

Cece, however, collected anything that remotely resembled sea glass, including sharp, untumbled shards, broken pieces of plastic, and rounded white pebbles. She had a collection of sea shells and although the tiny snail shells found at the local beaches were less than impressive, she squealed with delight each time she found one. Those she placed directly in the pocket of her raincoat. Squatting down low, Cece dug feverishly through a pile of pebbles. Noticing that her daughter was distracted, Tessa took the opportunity to sift through the bucket, returning the little pebbles to where they had come from. Bits of plastic and sharp glass she placed in the side pocket of her jacket to be thrown away later.

Tessa had not noticed that Cece had stopped digging and wandered away. She finished removing all the undesirables from her bucket and looked up. Initially, she didn't see her daughter and began to panic.

“Cecilia!” Tessa shouted frantically.

“Right here, Mommy!” a little voice replied.

Turning toward the direction of Cece’s voice, Tessa realized her daughter had walked out onto the ice.

“Baby, get over here. You're too far out there.”

Cece charged toward her mother. Slipping on the ice, she slid and crashed down on her knees and palms. Trying to move quickly without falling herself, Tessa hurried to her little girl, but the ice shattered abruptly, and her right foot was wet and miserably cold. Disoriented from the shock, she didn’t realize that the crack in the ice had spread so wide that it wouldn’t be safe for Cece to move forward. As the child steadied herself and took a step, she fell again, but this time she went under. Up to her neck in freezing water, Cece screamed.

“Cece! Oh my God!” Tessa shouted. The adrenaline rush from the sudden terror that pierced through her seemed to give her super speed. It also kept her from feeling the cold, even as she trudged through the water where the surface had cracked.

Tessa scooped up her baby and splashed through the cold water again as they returned to the shore. She shuffled through the sand, carrying her daughter to the parking lot. “I’m so sorry, baby, so sorry,” she repeated continuously. Cece must have been in shock. She didn’t cry or say a word. Approaching the car, Tessa nearly ripped the handle off as she opened the door. She pulled off all of her daughter’s wet clothing and wrapped her in a blanket she kept in the car. She planted a kiss on Cece’s forehead, then on her nose, and each cheek.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Tessa asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Cece responded in a remarkably calm manner.

“We’re never doing this again!”

“Okay, Mommy,” she said sweetly.

Tessa buckled her into her booster seat. Glancing at the clock, she realized they had only been at the beach for about ten minutes. She was stunned by how quickly their fun outing had escalated into a nightmare.

As she drove home, a Taylor Swift song played on the radio, and Cece sang along happily and loudly, holding her fist to her mouth like a microphone. It was as if she hadn't just shared the same traumatic experience that left her mother shaken. Tessa had managed to remain calm throughout the entire ordeal, likely due to the shock of the moment. Ironically, it was only once she was certain that Cece was unscathed that she was hit with the gravity of the situation. Flooded by a combination of relief and delayed fear, Tessa finally began to sob.

“Don’t cry, Momma.”

“Cecilia Maria, you are the bravest girl I’ve ever known.”