Fourteen, For Things That Glow

These pictures and this story come from Sanaya:

The light glittered in her eyes as she sat in the car on the way to their destination. She laughed, but the glittering of her eyes was only because of the sunlight.

Her friends waved goodbye to their parents as they kicked off their new beach slippers and headed straight for the pristine blue water. She picked out the laces of her worn out shoes and slumped onto the sand, forgetting about her auburn hair catching grains of sand. The sun beat down on her face, and she grabbed her hat, pulling it over her eyes.

She could hear her friends in the distance, shrieking about the cold water. She heard the silent crash of waves along the shore. She could feel the tiny pieces of sand tickling her feet. She felt the wind caressing her outstretched arms. She could feel the frying of the skin on her legs. It felt like she was a piece of coal tossed into a furnace, but she didn’t move a muscle. Her hand-me-down dress swished against her thighs.

She sat up abruptly, and took in a deep breath of salty air. She could smell that dampness on the sand. It had rained last night. She looked at her friends, some of them holding hands, walking further away from her. She looked away. Pieces of fiery hair flickered in front of her eyes, and another hand reached to place it behind her ear. It was him.

A smile played on her lips. She looked back into the waves, but through her peripheral vision, saw him place himself next to her, leaning back on his hands. His chest rose and fell slowly, and she tuned her breath to his.

“Why don’t you go into the water?” She asked, still staring at the boys and girls, now deep into the water, now lying on a gargantuan float while the waves lulled them towards the shore.

“Same reason as you.” His melodic voice said. She raised her eyebrows, and bit her lower lip.

“It’s nice on the sand,” she made her point by picking up the soft sand and pouring it over her knees. He copied her by picking up a handful and sprinkling it over her hands. The waves had moved in, now tickling her feet. She drew swirls in the muddy sand and watched the water erase them. Her hands felt cool as she patted the watery sand.

“It’s okay to be yourself, you know,” He said. Her eyes shot up to his face, sincerity in his own eyes.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure,” he mused, while an embarrassed laugh escaped from her lips.

“It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine as children do,” she continued, and he beamed back at her. His face looked too bright, as if the sun would have to move over to make way for this scintillating object.

“See?”

“What?” she asked, pulling her knees to her chest as the water swirled around them.

“We can quote Coach Carter and be dorks.” He stated. “And you don’t have to be ashamed.” A soft breeze blew her hair over her face. She reached up to pull it back into a ponytail.

“I knew that,” she rolled her eyes. He put a hand over hers, resting on the sand. She raised her eyebrows again, but in her stomach, tiny butterflies erupted out of their cocoons.

“You don’t have to hide it from me,” He repeated. She smiled at him.

“It's not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own lights shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

The light glittered in her eyes as she sat in the car on the way back from their destination. She sat in the backseat, his fingers quietly interlocked between hers. She laughed, but the glittering of her eyes was not only because of the sunlight.