I'd known how to swim in pools for years and didn't know enough to be afraid of the ocean. The waters that day were turbulent. Before I knew it, a huge wave knocked me down and the undertow grabbed me and began pulling me out to sea.

The waves were so rough and sandy that I couldn't even get my bearings as to which way was up. It felt as if I was underwater forever. I refused to give up and fought and struggled to find any indication of which way to go to find air.

Suddenly, I saw golden rays from the sun slice through the water right in front of me-where they illumined legs!--big, "man" legs, with big feet. I grabbed them and held on tight. The man scooped me up out of the water as easily as if I were a baby in a swing. I'll never forget how strong his arms felt, or how he looked. He was real big, and he had a big black beard, thick black hair, and lots of chest hair. My dad has red hair and freckles, and no hair on his legs, and I'd never seen a man that big or that hairy.

The man carried me to my blanket, wrapped me in a towel, and without a word he walked away. I looked around for my sister, mom, dad, or anybody. When I looked back toward the direction the man had walked he was gone. He'd just disappeared.

The towel wasn't mine. It had pink and blue shells and fishes printed on it. I was exhausted, but I ran as fast as I could back to the trailer. I tried to tell my parents what had happened, but I don't think they put much stock in my story. Maybe it was too farfetched for them.

After lunch that day, I went back to the blanket. There was no towel with shells and fishes. There were my footprints and my sister's but no 'big man' footprints. Not anywhere. But years later I still remember every inch of that brawny, dark-haired stranger, and I remember the odd sensation of feeling no heavier than a feather in his arms. Of course he left me something to remember him by--my life.

So if anyone tries to tell you that all angels are blond with white gowns, surrounded in light, I beg to differ!