Walking on Water: 2.0

I was 6 years old and sitting on the living room floor. A candle lit the room and my mother began to tell me about the ocean. 

            “Cassandra,” she said, “what do you think about all the sand?”

            “Well,” I started, unsure of how to respond, “I don’t like it. It hurts me; it makes me feel dirty. I want to be clean, like you and Daddy.” I pointed my finger in her direction and asked curiously, “What did you do to get rid of the sand?”

            She answered. “Cassandra, darling, it wasn’t I who did the cleansing. In fact, nothing you or I can do is enough to purify ourselves.”

            “Then what must I do?” I cried in earnest.

            “You know very well of the sand and that it covers the entire earth. No matter what kind of a life you tried to live you couldn’t avoid it. That is why you must go to the ocean, Cassandra; In its waters you will experience cleansing.”

            “The ocean?” I cocked my head. “Is it like the bathtub?”

            She giggled at my expression. “Sort of. The ocean is like a bathtub limitless. There’s no bottom, no tub to hold it, and no plug to drain it. It’s an enormous body of water filled with a much different type of water than our tap.”

            “Wow,” I marveled. 

            “Do you believe me, Cassandra?”

            I scratched my head for a moment. “Yes, mommy. I do. Can we go soon?”

            She laughed once more and offered the following: 

            “Very well, my daughter, but you need to do a little more growing before you’re ready to make the trip because when you go, you’ll have to go yourself. Don’t worry, for now, believing is enough.” She touched my forehead softly with her lips and took my hand. I yawned and followed her lead into my room, under the covers, and into dreamland.  Just before I fell asleep, I heard her blowing out the candles.