The beach was my usual hangout that day. I sat on a rock, watching the waves roll in, feeling pretty good about myself. A particularly strong set of waves surged forward, and one wave, bigger than the others, slammed into me. Knocked off the rock, I was thrown into the churning water. Disoriented, I fought to stay afloat, the riptide's relentless pull dragging me further in.
Then, I saw her. A small figure caught in the current too – a girl, maybe ten years old.
In that split second, something extraordinary happened. It was a surge of strength I never knew I possessed, a superhuman power that propelled over to her.
Reaching the girl, I grabbed her and clung to a nearby boulder. Waves crashed over us, a relentless assault. But with this newfound strength, I held on, protecting her and myself until the waves finally subsided.
Later, looking at my hands, I realized the extent of that strength. The rocks were embedded in my fingers, a testament to the raw power that had taken over. My friend, who had witnessed the whole ordeal, approached me in disbelief. "Did that really just happen?" he asked, echoing my own thoughts.
One moment I was struggling against the current, the next, I was saving a life. There's only one explanation for that surge of strength – a divine intervention, a miracle that unfolded in the blink of an eye.
Comments
Post a Comment