Car Wreck
My daughter, Kathleen, was 15... too young to seriously date but she
had a boyfriend. One evening, when I was leaving to pick up my son,
Paul, from baseball practice, she asked if she could just go with her
boyfriend to pick up his little brother at a friend's house. She said they would
come right back. I said, "All right, just make sure you wear your seat
belt, and come right home."
It was my father's birthday and my youngest daughter, Therese, was
already at my father's house waiting for us to come over with the cake I
had yet to pick up at the store. I left to pick Paul up at school, but
decided to take the highway, rather than the shortcut along the back
roads.
After leaving the school, Paul and I ran in the store for the cake and
some last minute goodies. As we were getting into the car, we heard and saw
paramedics, fire trucks, three ambulances and of course a multitude of
police cars. I got a sick feeling in my stomach and said to Paul,
"Somebody needs our prayers, quick." I wondered if there was a fire or a
bad car accident.
At one of the intersections I had to stop to let more emergency
vehicles through, and prayed, "Lord, those people need you right now, go
to them and place your protective hand over them." We stopped at my
parents to drop off the food, before going home to pick up Kathleen, but my
father met me at the car and told us to postpone the party because Therese had
fallen asleep.
"Which way did you go to the school?" he asked, "Because there was a
bad accident on the back road, I heard someone was killed. It happened just
about the time you had to pick up Paul at the school and I know you
always go that way. I was so happy to see you pull in, I had a gut feeling it was
you."
As Paul and I drove the short distance home, I could see our house was
dark and when Kathleen is home alone, she always burned every light. As
I turned off the ignition, tears fell, "It was Kathleen," I told Paul, "I
know it." I ran in the house and checked our answering machine, no one had
called. I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that someone would have called by
now. "Paranoid," that's what Kathleen always called me, and that's what I was
telling myself, "Your just paranoid!" Then, the phone rang. It was her friend's
mother, who worked in the emergency room of our local hospital. She only
told me that the three of them were in an accident and were being transported
to the hospital. I didn't call my husband at work, nor my parents. Paul and I just
left for the hospital. As I pulled into the parking lot, one of the paramedics,
someone we have known for years, met us at our car."I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he
said with tears streaming down his face.
The next thing I remember after was talking to the doctor in the
hallway of the ER. He asked me if I believed in God, and with that my
knees gave way. "No," he said, "you don't understand, do you believe in
divine intervention?"I stammered, a weak, "Yes." Not having a clue what he
was talking about. He smiled at me and asked, "Do you know what shirt
your daughter is wearing, tonight?" Nodding no, he told me to go down the
hall and look. "Your daughter is blessed with angels and so are you.
From what the emergency personnel told me, there is no way that your daughter
should be alive, let alone only have a few scratches." Kathleen was laying
on a cart, waiting for more x-rays. When I got to her, we both sobbed. As
I was hugging her I had the urge to check her shirt, unzipping her jacket. I
read the words, "Jesus Saves." I knew then, what the doctor had meant. All
three were treated and released.
On the way home that night, Kathleen told this story: "It was
really weird, about a quarter of a mile before the accident, I said, 'Wait, we
forgot to put our seat belts on, my Mother will kill me.' Then a car was
coming towards us in our lane, he swerved, and I knew we got hit on the
passenger side of the car, where I was sitting. We got hit a total of
three times because the car kept spinning in a circle. I felt his little
brother's hand on my shoulder, holding me tightly in place. "But Mom,
after it was all over, I could still feel the hand on my shoulder. I
looked and his little brother had flown out the back window of the car, as
we later found out,on the first spin. "It was an angel, Mom, I know it!" I knew it
too, especially when we went the next day to look at the car, it had been
split in half, right underneath my daughter's seat. The driver of the other
car, witnesses said, was traveling 90-95 miles per hour and the point of
impact at that speed was directly at Kathleen's door. The police report stated
that the car door was found fifty feet away from the accident scene, with
the seat belt attached. So when the door broke loose, "the hand" was the
only thing that saved my daughter's life.
The Lord, knew, long before I did that my child was in trouble, and
I will always praise Him for saving her life and restoring mine. I have
been meaning to write this story for the past couple years. Kathleen just
turned 21. While I was writing this I smiled and cried, but it's all
true.--
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