On the last Wednesday in April, I showed up at the pond on a cold, rainy day, a little nervous about my first day as a mentor in the city youth fishing program. The rain and hail let up just before 6 pm, the time that the 1st of 6 weekly classes was to start. I wasn’t much of a fisherman. But when I saw the listing in the local paper that said there was a need for mentors, I knew I had to help. I hoped the kids wouldn’t figure out that I wasn’t much more advanced than they were! I was introduced and the 5 kids who were assigned to me came and stood by me. Some were nervous and some excited, but they buoyed me up by just being there because I was their mentor! To them I thought, I was their avenue to catching the big one. Later I was to learn that I was simply another milemarker in their childhood and that is better than what I’d hoped to be.
The kids looked up to me instantly and everything I did was right. Luckily, in the first quick lesson before fishing, I learned how to tie a modified clinch knot to keep hooks and such on the line. As I showed the kids how they could tie their hooks on, they were amazed at my knowledge! They ranged in age from 6 to 10, with 2 girls (sisters) and the rest boys. Some of the kids were serious about wanting to fish and tested different baits and distances from the shore, etc. And some were just having fun and I would usually have to call for them when their bobber was pulled underwater by a fish that tired long ago with the teasing and just decided to eat the bait and head home for the day… As fate would have it, the kids who were less serious about the fishing typically caught the most fish!
One day, Kaylee’s line broke when it got caught on some rocks on the shore. The bobber and the bait floated about 10 feet off the shore. As I was getting her rigged up again, the bobber started bouncing! Then it disappeared! We all laughed so hard! We saw it one more time that evening, about 20 feet away from where it started. We figured that the other fish made fun of old “bobber tail” after that! It figured that Kaylee didn’t catch any fish that day except for the one that got away. And she couldn’t have been happier.
That was something I loved about these kids… Some days we caught a lot of fish, and some days we didn’t. But it never changed the joy and optimism in the faces. They always left happy and always said, “Thank you Wayne!!”
One of the first days, during a rare quiet spell, I taught them about calling the fish. Some were a little skeptical at first, but when Kaylee called to the fish, “Here fishy fishy fishy” and she was the next one to catch one, she was convinced! I may have some parents cussing me out in the future, but it’s a great way to keep kids smiling while bobber fishing on a slow day. On the last day, when the weather was perfect and everyone was having fun, the fishing was pretty slow. I asked the kids who were actually watching their bobbers if they had called the fish. “Ohhhhh, that’s what’s wrong”, they said through smiles…
Speaking of the last day, that’s what this entry is about. I guess I was putting off writing about it just as I did not look forward to it in real life. But it came. And I had to deal with it. It was funny… the best weather of any of the Wednesdays and everyone was late. I brought my son Jeff and we started fishing while waiting for others to show. The city leaders were cooking hotdogs for the last class – Jeff liked that! Soon, the kids trickled in. Kaylee and Cammie, the sisters, excitedly brought me a present, as well as both parents and a little sister. Their older sister couldn’t come for a reason that was excitedly shared, I just can’t remember. Their mom had been there almost every week and this was the first time I’d met the dad. Tanner, a neighbor of the girls, was with them too, along with his dad who had joined us for the last 3 classes. Jacob came with his mom. She was with him every week, bundled up and asking questions, trying to learn all she could because she wanted her son to experience fishing but it wasn’t her husband’s thing. She even wanted to know how to clean the fish which I taught her to do and since they took fish home, I presume she had to do. Last was Clark, who was serious about fishing most of the time. He also came with his dad and his dad had been a great support for him every week. He told me as he walked up that he was going to try something different this week – he had a lure! He was always thinking about how to catch the big one. He reminded me most of me at that age…
So we fished. And we talked and laughed. And I untangled lines. I tied on new hooks, added sinkers and bobbers and put worms on hooks. And I basked in my role. I liked feeling that I had a purpose. Some parents asked some final questions. The kids would run off and grab hot dogs and drinks. Little Cammie carried the bag of gummie worms I had brought, and shared with everyone everytime a fish was caught by anyone. When I told them that “rock” fish counted (getting the line or hook caught on the rocks), the candy deliveries became very frequent! Little Cammie had started out the shyest of the group, and ended as a bright star of energy… We had a few bobbers dip underwater a few times on that last day, but no fish caught. The funny thing was that no one seemed to care. These kids seemed to understand that we were fishing. That it was an activity and a process. A means to an end, and the end wasn’t necessarily to catch fish! 4 of the kids in my group had caught their very first fish ever in the preceding weeks (the other had caught many before). And on this, the last week, they were simply having fun. They were comfortable with fishing now. And they were comfortable with their new friends, including their mentor. When the first fisher-kid said he was leaving, I had everyone, including my son and extra kid, pose for a picture. Then he was gone. And over the next 20 minutes, the others said goodbye as well. Each one left happy and vowing to return as soon as they could to fishing waters to make use of their new-found knowledge. And each time one left, I felt a little struggle, wanting to pull them back for one last moment, knowing it was unlikely I would see them again. As I was driving home I began to understand that my role in their lives was likely over, but I had been there for a season and a reason and I had done well. I loved those little kids and the infectious smiles they shared with me. Wednesdays were my guaranteed smile day during a time when all was not peachy in my life. Those kids came to learn fishing. I don’t know exactly what knowledge they went away with (other than the knowledge that there is a neurotic fish swimming in the pond that is wondering why it is always followed by a bobber!!), but I had my bucket filled each week, and some put away in storage that will last for a good while. The fishing program is over, but my heart is still warm. Thanks kids.
