Article June 12, 1976 Issue

The Invisible Trophy

Carolyn Tietje Kingston

John had a new boat. It was a beautiful pale gray like a seagull's wing, and it shone in the sun as it rested on its trailer. Since John was fourteen, and not old enough to drive, his father took him to the yacht club early Saturday morning in time to set his mast and put the boat into the water.

It was an important day. Thirty-nine boats would be competing in a three-race regatta—two races Saturday and one on Sunday afternoon. The day was blue and shiny with the wind light at seven knots, though it would probably pick up to ten or fifteen later on.

John's crew, named Kip, waved as they came into the yard. He and John had known each other since they enrolled six years ago in the Christian Science Sunday School. Usually before they raced they thought about the ninety-first Psalm, which begins, "He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty." Or they took a few minutes to quietly acknowledge God's goodness and care for them and for all. There was normally enough time to do this as they sailed out to the starting line.

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