I clutched my mother’s hand as we ran, our feet kicking up dust, the sound of thousands of us escaping all at once like a mighty, rushing river. I didn’t know where we were going; I just knew the Egyptians were right behind us, and I could feel their rumbling chariots coming closer. My heart pounded as I looked around and saw people crying, children being carried, and older folks leaning on their staffs, struggling to keep up. But no one stopped running. “Keep going!” I heard, over and over. I wondered, how much longer could we go? And where was God?
Then we reached it – the edge of the sea. The whole crowd of us just stopped, staring out at the water. I gripped my mother’s hand tighter. This was the end, wasn’t it? We were trapped. I started to cry, but then I saw Moses. He lifted his staff, and suddenly, the sea wasn’t there anymore. I blinked and rubbed my eyes. But no – the water was really pulling apart! Great walls of water rose up like two massive hands, making a path right through the middle. My mother’s face glowed with awe, and I felt something strange bubbling up inside me – a kind of trembling excitement I couldn’t explain. This was God.
As we stepped onto the seabed, it felt cool and damp under my feet, and the sound of the water roaring on both sides was like nothing I’d ever heard. I wanted to look back, to see what would happen to the Egyptians, but my mother tugged me forward. I took a deep breath, feeling the misty spray of the walls beside us, and kept walking. God had made a way for us, a real path through the sea. And with every step, I felt braver, knowing that if He could split the sea, He could protect us from anything.
Hannah, 8 years old
