And The Warriors Came

By Tom Brosman

She was only seven and bleeding in a car flipped upside down

Her dad and mom had broken bones and neither made a sound

She hung there in her seatbelt as the cold knifed through her shirt

Frightened for her folks, “Would they die or just be badly hurt?”

Hope was nowhere close for the little girl who was softly sniffling

The deep snow cushioned the car that housed the wounded victims

The skid marks along the icy road told of a car that had lost control

Her mother had a broken leg but her dads’ blood loss took its toll

Twenty five timbered miles away in a remote detachment office

Two warriors got the call and raced across their ice encrusted beat

In WSP uniforms of blue both troopers rolled, strong and fast

The snow white cars they drove raced like quarter horses swept

She heard the sirens from far away and hoped and hoped again

Then she saw her strong warriors dressed in blue and kindness

As they knelt in the snow and carefully studied the victims within

They gave her words of hope as they called for the ambulance

The warriors helped to get them out of the cage that held them in the cold

        That small girl got her confidence back as the big ambulance rolled in

    Protectively with kind words they got her snug and loaded with her folks

She made a mental picture of those troopers with their kindness and grins

The little girl grew up and became an architect who was known world wide

Her beloved folks had recovered fully and had retired on Floridas’ sea side

She drew up plans for mighty buildings, strong with steel and brick and tall

But she felt deep down that those warriors in blue were the strongest..of all