Aloha in Me

Where was my daughter Ashley? It was pointless to call for her. The drummers were pounding a rhythm that drowned out everything except for the waves crashing to the shore.
Our trip to Maui had been ideal until now. We had hiked up and over a rocky hill trail that ended abruptly four feet above a sandy white beach known as Little Beach. We had jumped and landed in the soft sand, laughing. We could hear conga drums and see dozens of people of all ages, sizes and colors dancing 100 yards away. Some had on shorts and tees, some wore bathing suits. Some wore well, nothing.
As we headed toward the drummers, I heard a call for help. There were two women that wanted to get down to the beach. I jogged back to quickly help them down.
They needed a lot of help. By the time they were on the beach, I had lost track of Ashley. I finally decided to return to the little sandy beach. It was three inches under water! Our family rule was to return to where we were separated. So here I was alone, standing where there had been a sandy little beach.
I became aware of a large shadow merging with my shadow. I whirled and faced a massive torso covered with tribal tattoos. I had to tilt my head upward to see the man’s face, which was mostly covered by big wraparound sunglasses. I instantly became aware of my distance from the drummers and the crowd.
The man reached for me and took my shoulder firmly. “Aloha, my sister. It’s gonna be ok. Whatever it is, we’re all family here. “
We walked to the drummer’s circle and he put his hand up for silence. After announcing that the tide was coming in, he pointed and smiled. My daughter was waving her arms at the edge of the circle! I was so happy and relieved that I ran straight to her. I wanted to go back with her to thank him, but I couldn’t find him. I like to believe that he knew how grateful I was. What he might not know is that, because of him, the spirit of Aloha will forever be with me.