Watch for the Angels
Posted by: root <root@...>
into the "feel good" category... Glen.]
Watch for the angels
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 canceled
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 add to her tension.
"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-by
ordinary means-who was in the car or what had happened to either of the
passengers. Nor could the passenger door have been opened; Barbara had seen
it's 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.