HERE ONE MINUTE...GONE THE NEXT!
by: Linda Law
Jeffrey was 14 months old; sitting in his infant carrier, strapped in as best we could in those days when the carseat didn't have to go in the backseat. We had come a long way from being able to hold our child in our lap as hubby drove us from place to place. These days we could strap in our small children into the front seat, and PRAY that we didn't have to slam on the brakes and have the child go flying onto the floor of the car. This was one of those days that I had so many errands to run, and hiring a babysitter was simply not an option.
We were a young couple, with our first child, and although I had taken Maternity Leave during the first few weeks of Jeffrey's life; I knew that leaving him at Daycare was just not going to be the right choice for us. I worked a few months, and saved every penny that I could in preparation for the resignation that I planned to give. Jeffrey was one year old, and as a gift to both of us; I became a fulltime stay at home mom. The decision was a luxury that we could not afford; but it was also one that we knew would be more costly later in life.
The visit to the pediatrician early that morning had gone well, and then it was off to the next appointment on my list. Jeff was a good baby, and he had a habit of sleeping while in the car, yet the minute the engine was off, his eyes would open wide and he'd be ready to get out and enjoy the adventures of the day. After stopping at the grocery, and the gas station to fill up with gas, then stopping by mom's for a snack and a nap for Jeffrey, we were on our way back home to get ready for daddy to come home after a day at work.
It was a nice day, and as I drove through the busy streets of our city, I realized that I was in the middle of heavy traffic time, and knew it would take me longer to get home than usual. Jeffrey had lapsed into his usual napping while I drove, and as the light changed from red to green at the intersection of Main and Brown, I had the left turn indicator light on, had slowed to make the turn, when suddenly a delivery truck appeared right before my eyes, and I knew I would never be able to stop or avoid the head on collision. In that instant, I recall hearing myself screaming "Oh Dear God, please don't let my Jeffrey be hurt!"
The minutes felt like hours, and I found myself standing across the street looking at the car that I had been driving, crushed like an accordion in the center of the street. Half way on top of my car, was the large white delivery truck that I had seen zooming our way. Both vehicles were a mangled comingling of wreckage. There were sirens sounding all around, and people were running toward me, asking if I was okay.
The only way I can explain the scene, is to say that I felt as if I were dream or sleepwalking. My little boy Jeffrey was hanging tightly to my neck, with his chubby legs wrapped around my waist, and thankfully, he did not have one scratch on his body, nor did I! The driver of the delivery truck was dead, and the police explained that he had died upon impact. There were witnesses to the accident, and they each gave similar explanations of what they saw. No one could explain how Jeffrey and I ended up on the sidewalk across the street from the accident! No one could explain how I escaped the crash, and no one could explain how it was possible that this miracle had occurred! In fact, people had been heard asking, "What happened to the driver of the car?" One man had stood next to me and asked, "Did you see what happened? Did you see who was driving that car?"
Shock is the only way I can explain why I didn't feel anythng at the moment. It was as if I were a spectator wondering how and why the accident had happened, and like everyone else, I also wondered who ws driving that mangled wreckage lying under the delivery truck. When the police began to question the people who had witnessed the accident, and when others had begun describing seeing a woman driving the car just seconds before; it began to dawn on me that the car belonged to me. Suddenly I began to shake so violently that the policeman took Jeffrey from my arms, and called one of the paramedics over to check on me. It was at that moment that I was able to tell them that the car belonged to me, and that I could not explain how I had escaped, nor could I even remember anything other than standing on the corner overseeing the accident after the fact!
Jeffrey and I were taken to the hospital for routine observation, and I was questioned over and over by the police and medical caretakers. We were released the following morning, and of course, our car had to be replaced as there was nothing left of it. I learned the name of the delivery truck driver, and found out that he had suffered a seizure of some type and had lost control of his truck, and it was possible that he had died seconds before the impact, or at least during the impact. My husband and others had taken photos of the accident scene, and I continue to review those photos even after all these years. Jeffrey is now 16 years old, an active busy student who loves playing basketball and who is a good student, and great son. He doesn't remember anything about that day since he was so young, but he smiles shyly when I drag out the photos and remind him that he is My Miracle; My Gift from God! The mystery remains unsolveable by most who see the pictures or have heard about the strange situation surrounding the accident.
It is no mystery to me as I am certain that God heard me cry out and had to work fast and miraculously. In seconds Jeffrey had been unbuckled from his carrier, and he was placed in my arms, and we were both lifted from the entire scene, as if we were never even there in the first place!
Miracles happen every day. Are you ready for your miracle? Believe!