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, or 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 lying 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. -- Barbara
