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Barbara
was driving her six-year-old son, Benjamin, to his piano lesson.
They
were late, and Barbara was beginning to think she should have cancelled it.
There was always so much to do, and Barbara, a night-duty nurse at the local
hospital, had recently worked extra shifts.
She
was tired. The sleet storm and icy roads added to her tension. Maybe she should
turn the car around.
"Mom!"
Ben cried. "Look!" Just ahead, a car had lost control on a patch of ice. As
Barbara tapped the brakes, the other car spun wildly rolled over, then crashed
sideways into a telephone pole.
Barbara
pulled over, skidded to a stop and threw open her door. Thank goodness she was a
nurse - she might be able to help these unfortunate passengers.
Then
she paused. What about Ben? She couldn't take him with her. Little boys
shouldn't see scenes like the one she anticipated. But was it safe to leave him
alone? What if their car were hit from behind?
For
a brief moment Barbara considered going on her way. Someone else was sure to
come along. No! "Ben, honey, promise me you'll stay in the car!"
"I
will, Mommy," he said as she ran, slipping and sliding toward the crash site. It
was worse than she'd feared. Two girls of high school age were in the car. One,
the blonde on the passenger side, was dead, killed on impact.
The
driver, however was still breathing. She was unconscious and pinned in the
wreckage. Barbara quickly applied pressure to the wound in the teenager's head
while her practiced eye catalogued the other injuries. A broken leg, maybe two,
along with probable internal bleeding. But if help came soon, the girl would
live.
A
trucker had pulled up and was calling for help on his cellular phone. Soon
Barbara heard the ambulance sirens. A few moments later she surrendered her
lonely post to rescue workers.
"Good
job," one said as he examined the driver's wounds. "You probably saved her life,
ma'am." Perhaps.
But
as Barbara walked back to her car a feeling of sadness overwhelmed her,
especially for the family of the girl who had died. Their lives would never be
the same. Oh God, why do such things have to happen?
Slowly
Barbara opened her car door. What should she tell Benjamin? He was staring at
the crash site, his blue eyes huge. "Mom," he whispered, "did you see it?"
"See
what, Honey?" she asked.
"The
angel, Mom! He came down from the sky while you were running to the car. And he
opened the door, and he took that girl out."
Barbara's
eyes filled with tears. "Which door, Ben?"
"The
passenger side. He took the girl's hand, and they floated up to Heaven together"
"What
about the driver?"
Ben
shrugged. "I didn't see anyone else."
Later,
Barbara was able to meet the families of the victims. They expressed their
gratitude for the help she had provided. Barbara was able to give them something
more - Ben's vision.
There
was no way he could have known what happened to either of the passengers. Nor
could the passenger door have been opened; Barbara had seen its tangle of
immovable steel herself. Yet Ben's account brought consolation to a grieving
family. Their daughter was safe in Heaven. And they would see her again. |