When I was a young child, my parents often took me and my siblings out to Yosemite Falls. I personally always looked forward to these trips, for there was nothing more thrilling for a young boy such as myself at the time than an irreplaceable experience in the great outdoors. However, there was one trip in particular that I found to be a memorable event, although it may not have been the most pleasant.
Naturally, in Yosemite Falls, my family went river rafting. I was a slim, insignificantly-sized child that had no knowledge of swimming, so my mother and father obviously didn't want me doing anything risky near the water without them close by. A rough estimate brought me to the conclusion that the river was deep enough to completely submerge my torso in, despite being a shallow bed. As we were well down the river, my father dropped his hat, and it fell into the shallow depths of the river. I, without thinking, ejected myself from the raft and waded my way towards the fallen hat. Retrieving my father's hat, I powered my way through the "massive rapids" (they seemed massive to a child my size) and made it to the edge of the river, where I was retrieved by my parents, shortly after they brought the raft ashore.
I found this experience to be a representation of new found freedom and courage. A child willing to leave the safety and nourishment of his parents makes a very inspiring representation of independence.
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