… in his own way.
Bethany caught sight of her brothers on the beach. They were both busy setting up cameras like they did with her regular surf contests. Noah took his spot on the beach while Tim was preparing to shoot water shots with an underwater housing. Bethany picked up the little kiddie pool she’d be riding and headed in their direction.
“What’s with all of the cameras
today?”
Bethany asked.
“This is hilarious,” Noah answered with a grin. “And I think some of the sponsors who can’t be here would definitely like a copy of what happens today. I know I do.”
Bethany grinned back. “So, you like the idea of me looking like a nut ball, riding the waves in this kiddie pool?”
“Well … when you put it like that … yeah!”
“Best idea I’ve heard in a long time,” Tim added, and Bethany laughed.
Sarah suddenly appeared on the beach with sunglasses, a huge straw hat, and a stack of forms on her clipboard. She called everyone together.
“Okay you guys! Here is the objective—should you choose to take it—ride as many waves as you can in an hour’s time. You will have to count the waves yourselves, so be honest. When you are done, report the number to me. I will fill out your sponsor sheets, and you can collect your money. I know that some of you were given pledges already, and we have all that tracked. So go on out and have a great time!”
With that, she blew a whistle, and Bethany, the Hanalei girls, and the rest of their youth group grabbed up their inflatables and ran into the surf.
It was a sight to see. And that’s putting it mildly.
Visitors and locals alike cracked up over the comic menagerie of inflatable animals hurtling down the face of the waves, and in some cases they were so out of control that they mowed down anyone in their path.
Air mattresses—not meant for dropping down the face of a wave—pitched many of their laughing riders off into the cushion of white water.
Wave after wave, the white water washed in a bizarre array of floating pool toys with teenagers barely hanging on. At the shore, the riders picked up their beasts and ran back for another round.
At the end of the hour Sarah blew her whistle, and the crowd came in laughing and telling stories of wipeouts, crashes, and mow downs.
After the students reported to Sarah the number of waves caught, they attacked their ice chests and waited for the results.
A few minutes later, Sarah gathered the group around her. “Okay, great job, guys! We had people sponsor rides for a quarter a ride up to five bucks a ride. But we had one sponsor in particular”—and here she glanced over at Bethany and Holly — “who has made it possible for us to go on our trip without any more fundraisers.”
Bethany and Holly high-fived each other as the youth group hooted and cheered around them.
“It’s like a miracle,” Monica said to no one in particular.
“These folks sponsored Bethany and Holly for one ride only,” Sarah went on with a big smile. The noise died down as everyone, especially Bethany and Holly, suddenly looked at Sarah in confusion.
“They put down $2,500 for each girl’s first wave! We made it gang! We’re going to Mexico!”
Cheers broke out again, and kids slapped each other on the back—all except for Bethany and Holly, who were looking at each other dumbfounded.
“You know something I don’t know?” Bethany asked, and Holly shook her head.
“I know I didn’t have sponsorship like
that!”
“Me either. Something’s gotta be wrong,” Bethany said. And they both turned to see Sarah’s beaming face.
“You two were sponsored by someone who feels like they owe you a lot more than that for what you did for them.”
The girls looked at each other, still puzzled.
“Forgotten your little Hanakapiai adventure so soon?” Sarah prodded.
“I don’t get it,” Bethany said. Holly’s look mirrored hers.
“The folks you helped off the mountain wanted to say thank you,” Sarah
Bethany caught sight of her brothers on the beach. They were both busy setting up cameras like they did with her regular surf contests. Noah took his spot on the beach while Tim was preparing to shoot water shots with an underwater housing. Bethany picked up the little kiddie pool she’d be riding and headed in their direction.
“What’s with all of the cameras
today?”
Bethany asked.
“This is hilarious,” Noah answered with a grin. “And I think some of the sponsors who can’t be here would definitely like a copy of what happens today. I know I do.”
Bethany grinned back. “So, you like the idea of me looking like a nut ball, riding the waves in this kiddie pool?”
“Well … when you put it like that … yeah!”
“Best idea I’ve heard in a long time,” Tim added, and Bethany laughed.
Sarah suddenly appeared on the beach with sunglasses, a huge straw hat, and a stack of forms on her clipboard. She called everyone together.
“Okay you guys! Here is the objective—should you choose to take it—ride as many waves as you can in an hour’s time. You will have to count the waves yourselves, so be honest. When you are done, report the number to me. I will fill out your sponsor sheets, and you can collect your money. I know that some of you were given pledges already, and we have all that tracked. So go on out and have a great time!”
With that, she blew a whistle, and Bethany, the Hanalei girls, and the rest of their youth group grabbed up their inflatables and ran into the surf.
It was a sight to see. And that’s putting it mildly.
Visitors and locals alike cracked up over the comic menagerie of inflatable animals hurtling down the face of the waves, and in some cases they were so out of control that they mowed down anyone in their path.
Air mattresses—not meant for dropping down the face of a wave—pitched many of their laughing riders off into the cushion of white water.
Wave after wave, the white water washed in a bizarre array of floating pool toys with teenagers barely hanging on. At the shore, the riders picked up their beasts and ran back for another round.
At the end of the hour Sarah blew her whistle, and the crowd came in laughing and telling stories of wipeouts, crashes, and mow downs.
After the students reported to Sarah the number of waves caught, they attacked their ice chests and waited for the results.
A few minutes later, Sarah gathered the group around her. “Okay, great job, guys! We had people sponsor rides for a quarter a ride up to five bucks a ride. But we had one sponsor in particular”—and here she glanced over at Bethany and Holly — “who has made it possible for us to go on our trip without any more fundraisers.”
Bethany and Holly high-fived each other as the youth group hooted and cheered around them.
“It’s like a miracle,” Monica said to no one in particular.
“These folks sponsored Bethany and Holly for one ride only,” Sarah went on with a big smile. The noise died down as everyone, especially Bethany and Holly, suddenly looked at Sarah in confusion.
“They put down $2,500 for each girl’s first wave! We made it gang! We’re going to Mexico!”
Cheers broke out again, and kids slapped each other on the back—all except for Bethany and Holly, who were looking at each other dumbfounded.
“You know something I don’t know?” Bethany asked, and Holly shook her head.
“I know I didn’t have sponsorship like
that!”
“Me either. Something’s gotta be wrong,” Bethany said. And they both turned to see Sarah’s beaming face.
“You two were sponsored by someone who feels like they owe you a lot more than that for what you did for them.”
The girls looked at each other, still puzzled.
“Forgotten your little Hanakapiai adventure so soon?” Sarah prodded.
“I don’t get it,” Bethany said. Holly’s look mirrored hers.
“The folks you helped off the mountain wanted to say thank you,” Sarah
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