Gifts From the River

A River Guide Reflects on the Generosity of Strangers

William, 11, approached me at lunch on the first day of our Snake River rafting trip. With no preamble, he shoved a shell into my hands. “Oh?” I asked. The beach was littered with shells and I didn’t know what was special about this one. He whispered conspiratorially, “Don’t tell the other guides. I’m going to find a shell for each of you to say thank you for this experience. This one is yours.” 

I melted. That was not what I expected. “Thank you so much,” I said sincerely. I slipped it into my pocket with a smile. We had been on the water for less than two miles. Not even an hour had passed rafting on the Snake. Already this eleven-year-old wanted to say thank you? I was moved by the medium of his gratitude: found beauty.  

During river season this year, I encountered many forms of gifting. From osprey feathers to surprisingly patterned rocks to knotty pieces of driftwood, sharing in found beauty was a top contender. But I was bestowed with other tangible gifts as well. Each gift brings warm memories of kind people.

On the Lower Salmon River, Annabel, 8, made me a dual-purpose bracelet/hair tie. She braided the neon strands in secret. The bracelet is both adorable and functional. Annabel and her cousins were goofy. They didn’t need much to be entertained, and every class II rapid felt death-defying to them. Each time I tie my hair up, I remember their playfulness and awe. 

On the Main Salmon, Amanda gave me a pair of Chaco sandals. Ecstatic, I wore them every day of the season. I remember my conversations with her because I admired both her adventurousness and her thoughtful relationship with her brother. Floored by her generosity, I didn’t thank her adequately. She was cavalier, telling me they had been in her closet for years. “She’s more of a Croc girl,” her brother confided. From North Dakota, she wore Crocs for all occasions (including chainsawing in the backyard). She even had a pair of battery-powered headlights for her Crocs! She was full of life, and her pathway was what some might call unconventional. To me it was inspirational. I hope I told her that. 

In Grand Canyon, Melodie dug in her dry bag to find something for me when she learned it was my birthday. She gave me one of her favorite protein bars; she found one aptly flavored birthday cake. I had only just met her, and her kindness overwhelmed me. 

These thoughtful gifts remind me of the people I met and the connections I made. I like tying up my hair and thinking about Annabel’s joy. I like slipping on my Chacos and remembering what it can look like to design the life you want. I like finding William’s shell, which is still in the pocket of my favorite pants, and remembering how positively impactful it can be to express gratitude to those around us. Small gestures made a huge impact on me.

When a river trip strips away all pretense, overwhelming human generosity is left. And the ripple effect is huge.

There are intangible gifts, too. And I cherish those just as much. When the entire group sang “Happy Birthday” to me on day two of our trip, they couldn’t have known I was feeling intimidated. It was my first commercial Grand Canyon trip and I didn’t know anyone. The song quelled my nerves and helped me feel less alone.

On the Middle Fork Salmon, Nancy, a repeat rafter, gifted me an observation. Two years prior, I’d spent time with her and her family on the Snake River. I had been in the midst of a big, off-river career decision. When Nancy saw me again, she told me the way only a grandmother can, “You seem lighter. Happier.” I blinked back tears. “I mean it,” she said. Affirmation that the turmoil-filled decision I’d made was right, I felt overwhelming gratitude to be seen so clearly by a near stranger. 

On my final Main Salmon rafting trip of the season, Diane, a retired art teacher spoke with me about her career. I accepted an art teaching job two days before I met her, and the overwhelm of transitioning from English to art was starting to settle over me. She told me to swing by her house when I was coming through her town on my travels next month; she’d show me some work samples. She gave me an email address, but also reassurance and ease. 

None of these gifts were expensive, in fact, most were free or found. That’s part of what makes them so special. A stranger wanted to express something badly enough, they made do with what they had in their drybag. And the gestures mattered. I’m still thinking about these people months later, not because they spent money on me, but because they reached out in a small yet significant way. When a river trip strips away all pretense, overwhelming human generosity is left. And the ripple effect is huge. 

William, Annabel, Amanda, Nancy, and Diane taught me it can be so easy to make the world a better place. I am grateful for their kindnesses. But most of all, I’m grateful for the example set: it made me want to gift others what I could. A listening ear, a handwritten note, a fleece pillowcase. It made me want to share in found beauty. It made me want to connect with others, to be generous with my compliments. It made me feel more hopeful well after I left the river. That’s what I’ll cherish most of all.