What a Beachside Encounter With a 5 Year Old Taught Me About Awe, Wonder, and a Zest for Life

At times, my life is like a living parable in which I find myself immersed in encounters that seem divinely orchestrated to illustrate spiritual truths. My life lesson one sunny afternoon last Fall when visiting the North Carolina Outerbanks was delivered by an unlikely teacher.

Prior to departing for that trip I had been embroiled in a whirlwind of crisis and chaos. It seemed that everything that could go wrong, did go wrong, all at the same time! An avalanche of issues surfaced that were all of significant importance; hospitalization of an aging parent, unexpected appliance breakdowns, Covid-19 induced staffing emergencies at work, and the untimely death of a family friend. My husband and I were mentally and emotionally frazzled, and unsure until the day prior to departure that we would be even be able to go.

I walked the beach, that afternoon, chatting with my niece by cell phone, and paused at the water’s edge. I waded in ankle deep, desiring to feel the ticklish ebb and flow of waves across my feet. At least I thought that was why I was stopping. The deeper reason for my pause would soon reveal itself.

Unbeknownst to me, gravity had pulled me into the orbit of a miniature earth Angel. A swimsuit-clad personification of joy was headed my way, brimming with grins and giggles. I was engrossed in my cell phone conversation and didn’t immediately notice, when she first cozied up alongside me. But then she spoke: “Hi, I’m Carly!”

I looked down, as a tiny human looked up. Her eyes spoke of a beautiful soul and her demeanor spoke of an adventurous spirit. Some children wear a smile, but Carly was a smile.

She has an ethereal aura that captured my attention, compelling me to ask my niece to hold, so I could engage with her.

“Hi Carly, how old are you?”

“I’m five!”, she chirped, and held up all 5 fingers of her right hand.

I smiled back at her, “I’m Olivia and I’m 55.”

“Hi Olivia! I’m one 5, you’re TWO 5’s”. She giggled, exaggerating the word “two” as she spoke it.

Her mother gently admonished her from nearby, “Carly, don’t bother the lady while she’s on the phone.”

Carly obeyed and stopped talking, but edged closer, beaming up at me in silence, twisting side to side, as she waited impatiently. When I ended the call, she grasped my free hand and began to tug and walk: “Come on Olivia. I’m your friend. Let’s go play!”

Carly was as radiant as the afternoon sun — bright, buoyant and bold in the invitation to join her in playing, just for the love of fun. Before my mind could fully form a reaction, which was some version of: “What in the actual hell is happening here?”, I was knee deep in surf, as an incoming wave rolled in and crashed before us, spritzing the air with salt water.

Her mother witnessed our drenching, flushed red with embarrassment, and scurried over to apologize: “I’m so sorry,” she said contritely, “She’s an only child, and never meets a stranger.”

She then turned to Carly and said in a calm but firm maternal tone, “Sweetie you can’t just pull people into the water that way.”

Carly met her mother’s gaze with a perplexed stare, still holding my hand: “Mommy, Olivia is my friend. I’m one 5, and she’s two 5’s. We’re playing!”

Right Olivia?” She squeezed my hand and gave me the side eye, as if to say, “Hey, new friend, back me up, already!”

In a moment that now seems surreal, I heard my voice speak words to her mother that I do not recall consciously forming:

“You don’t have to apologize. I’ve raised three kids, and have two grandkids. She’s not bothering me. I’m happy to play with her right here if it’s okay with you.”

Bizarre as this all sounds, I felt flush with an infusion of providential certainty. I knew, without knowing howI knew, that this random beach encounter was not random at all. I had an unwavering assurance that I was supposed to be playing with this 5 yr old, on this day, at this time. I trusted that the reason would eventually reveal itself. The greater miracle was that my introverted, not particularly kid-friendly persona, wanted to play with her. I was not a reluctant participant.

Carly interrupted my thoughts with an announcement: “I’m glad I’m your friend!” She then threw both arms around my waist squeezing with all her 5 yr old might. When she released me, she grabbed my hand again, and led me away from the water.

“Let’s find seashells!”

So we did.

We collected seashells, chased waves, and played in the sand. She engaged me in conversation like we had been best friends forever, and it was the most natural thing in the world for a 5 year old child to interrupt a 55 year old stranger with an invitation to an impromptu play date.

Children often remind us that we were once as carefree of spirit as they are. The eyes of a child are filled with the light of the world, and it’s up to adults to reflect that light back to them. We can only do so, if we’ve kept our own inborn light alive as we’ve matured. Somewhere amidst the trials, trauma, and tragedies of five decades of life, parts of my light have dimmed. I believe Carly was a pint sized messenger sent to help reignite them.

Her purple swimsuit was emblazoned with a unicorn, which doesn’t seem coincidental in hindsight. In many cultures, unicorns are viewed as symbols of the divinity and magic in each of us. They represent an invitation to reclaim our childhood faith and the ability to truly see the wonders of the world.

She modeled what it looks like to live in the moment, love without fear, and exist unburdened by the prospect of being judged.

She was an embodied manifestation of a line from a poem I once penned about my affinity for the night sky.

“When the world seems chaotic and out of control, the night sky is there to remind me.

That no matter what happens, I’m known, and I’m loved by a Creator who knows where to find me.”

On that Fall day in late 2021, I was found on the beach, and invited to play….to immerse myself in awe, wonder, and natural splendor.

I ended the day feeling loved, seen, and held in divine embrace.

I ended the day grateful that despite the chaos that preceded our departure, we found a way at the last minute to move forward with our travel plans.

I ended the day in complete confidence that of all the places I could’ve been, I was exactly where I was destined to be.