Swift Waters

Sabbath, and they were planning to attend church services in the large downtown Seventh-day Adventist church. “I’ll get up right now!” cheerily answered the sixteen-year-old girl, as she threw back the bed covers and jumped hastily out on the rug. “I was so sleepy that at first I thought it was time to go to work at the cleaners. I was trying to catch a few extra winks, just as I always did down at Lodi Academy when the rising bell sounded.

Then I realized it was Sabbath.” “Well, hurry, dear. I’ve laid out the clothes that you decided to wear, and although it’s August, I don’t believe that you’ll be too warm if you wear your new gray coat. Or perhaps you’d prefer to carry it over your arm.

You’ll look very sweet in your new white blouse and gray skirt. I thought you’d want your lace-trimmed slip also, so I put it with your clothing.” She smiled proudly at her pretty daughter as they closed their door and started down the hall. She thought how much she and Virginia were enjoying the summer months spent in the old, vine-covered home right on the green banks of the tree-lined millrace—the small, swift stream whose deep channel cut across the University of Oregon district and on through part of the city.

Many happy evenings had been spent in fireplace “sings” with the five or six congenial families who also lived under the big red roof. Ginger had proved to be especially popular with the many small children, who liked to watch her splash and play in the cold stream, which was too deep and too swift for them to enter. One of the younger girls heard their footsteps and ran to meet them. It was four-year-old Judy Luck, who loved Ginger dearly.

As the older girl bent to kiss the rosy cheek, Judy exclaimed, “Oh, Gingie, you look so pretty with your new black shoes and new hat. I wish I could go with you. Could I, Gingie?” “Not now, honey,” laughed Virginia.

“We thought we got up quite early, but somehow we must have slowed down, for we’ve just barely time to have breakfast and get to church. I don’t like to be late, and today a visiting minister is speaking, so I want to be sure and hear his sermon. Some other time we’ll take you and Dianne to the Sabbath school kindergarten, for they have many interesting stories and songs for little boys and girls.” “Judy, where are you?” a voice called, as Mrs.

Luck came up the stairway, hairbrush in hand. “Don’t look so worried, Virginia. I’m not going to spank Judy; I’m just going to brush her hair. Blonde hair seems to tangle so quickly.

I had to run down to the back porch to see where Dianne was playing. She’s the most fearless six-year-old I ever saw. Every day I must remind her to stay away from the water’s edge. It’s swift even for a good swimmer.”

Virginia waved good-by to Judy as she and her mother hurried downstairs to the big community kitchen where each family prepared meals. Four women were already there, and for a few minutes everyone visited in the cheerful breakfast room. Then one of the women stepped out onto the porch for a minute but returned almost instantly.

“Quick—quick. Help her! She’s out there—” she gasped, almost too frightened to speak.

“Why, what’s happened!” exclaimed Virginia, as she ran to the woman’s side. “Who is out there? You are as white as a sheet! Here, sit down in this chair.

I’ll get you a glass of water.” “No—no,” the frightened woman gasped as she pushed Virginia away.

“You don’t understand. Don’t stop. It—it’s Dianne. One of the little boys in the yard called to me.

He—he said that Dianne had fallen in the millrace. Hurry!” Quickly Virginia and her mother ran outside, with all the others following. Virginia knew that she was the only one present who could swim, and without stopping to realize her own possible danger she ran swiftly to the millrace bank.

“Wait, Ginger,” her mother called. “Take off your skirt. It’ll hold you back. Take it off.”

Virginia paused only long enough to unfasten her waistband and step out of her gray suit skirt. Then, catching a glimpse of the drowning child, with a quick, clean-cut dive she flashed into the swift water.

But just at that moment the little figure sank out of sight. The frightened onlookers wondered frantically where little Dianne could be, when all at once Mrs.

Leach cried out, “Look! There she is—over by the other bank. Oh! but she is drifting away so fast that Gingie will miss her!

It’s too late. Too late!” Through tear-filled eyes they stared at the small, blue-clad figure, now drifting motionlessly away, feet first and arms outspread. They watched in frozen horror as Virginia reached the opposite bank only long enough to catch her breath.

Then, as she once again caught sight of Dianne, she gave a little spring that sent her flying into the water—and momentarily she disappeared. Mrs. Leach wondered desperately whether the millrace would claim two victims that August day. She felt so weak and helpless that she almost fainted from terror and despair.

“If only I could do something,” she thought wildly. “If only I could help my precious girl and that little child!” And then her answer came as clearly as though a voice had spoken in her ear.

“Pray! Pray? Why, of course. The words rang in her ears: “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee. ...

Fear not: for I am with thee.” Eyes fixed on the unbroken water, she prayed as she had never prayed before in her life.

She knew that Gingie, somewhere in that deep channel, was even then praying to the One who had said, “If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth.” And then, four feet beyond the now barely visible Dianne, Virginia’s head broke the surface of the waves.

But even then, because of the motion of the water, she did not see the little child. Mrs. Leach’s lips moved silently as she stared unwinkingly toward Virginia; her fingernails pressed deep into her palms. “There, Gingie,” she kept repeating within herself.

“Dianne’s right there. She’s near you. Oh! can’t you see her—just below the surface. Look, my child.

Look!” At that very instant Dianne’s little face and hands came to the surface for only a second, but that was sufficient time for Virginia to reach out in a mad lunge and grasp a handful of long blonde hair.

Next came the struggle to reach shore and the outstretched hands of the two little boys who were the only ones on that side of the stream. Dianne’s little playmates dragged her up on the bank, where she lay, still and cold. The almost exhausted rescuer pulled herself up on the edge of the stream and then hurried to the three little figures dreading lest she had reached the tiny girl too late.

She ran to Dianne and turned her over on her stomach in order to give artificial respiration. But before that could be started, Dianne gasped for air, opened her eyes, and started crying.

Oh, what pitiful crying! But how glad Virginia was to hear the sound.

She gathered the little drenched, frightened child up in her arms and held her tight, murmuring soothing words until the women had time to run around by way of the bridge and reach them. One of the women carried Dianne into the house, where many willing hands cared for her and for her frightened mother, who had known nothing about the near tragedy until her half-drowned child was brought into the house. “Are you all right, dear?” Mrs.

Leach asked Virginia as they sat on the bank, resting for a few moments. “Yes, Mother, I’m all right,” Virginia replied quietly. Everything seemed very peaceful and calm after the few moments of violent stress.

Then the girl spoke again as she stared into the silently moving waters, and watched the little black hat with the now-wilted veil become a speck far down the stream. “Mother, I could never have done it alone!” Mrs. Leach nodded.

She knew well what her daughter meant. Many times she had seen her play in the millrace, but never before had she been able to go so nearly straight across that swift current.

Yet with His help she had just done that very thing! When they were once again in their room, Virginia said, “Mother, please don’t tell anyone about this, will you?

After all, it was no more than anyone else would have done. And I don’t want people making a fuss over me!” But in this respect her wish was not to be granted.

Her picture and the story of the daring rescue appeared not only in the local paper, which carried a front-page feature story, with the statement that she was being recommended for the Carnegie Medal, but also in newspapers throughout the United States from the San Francisco Examiner to the New York Times. Several news commentators mentioned the rescue on their radio programs, and Virginia received many letters of commendation. However, the unsought recognition which she prized the most came on Tuesday evening, August 14.

Just three days after the accident, as she and her mother sat in the Eugene Hotel dining room with the Luck family, Mr. and Mrs. Luck presented her with a beautiful little rose gold wrist watch. The dinner was delicious, and everyone had a wonderful time. But best of all were the words of little Dianne and Judy, who looked at her with love and devotion shining in their eyes as they said, “We’ll always love you, Ginger.”

Oh, how thankful Virginia was, as she looked at little Dianne, for God’s help and sustaining power. “Yes,” she thought, “it’s a wonderful feeling—that of having served others.

But it is even more wonderful to feel God’s helping hand and to know that your prayers are being answered.”