Anyone ever came to your rescue, just in the nick of time? Someone you didn’t even know?
I was a young Mom when my one-year-old daughter sat in the back of the car, half-asleep. I was late for my new job and had yet to drop her off at my dad’s house.
Torrential rain nerved me as I drove along the highway. The downpour hammering on the roof of the car, echoed in my eardrums. I turned up the radio. As the water sloshes against the windshield, my car’s wipers stuck on slow hindered my vision and distracted me. Driving in the far right lane, I leaned forward, both hands clutching the steering wheel and wondered how late I—
Suddenly, the taillights in front glowed red. The driver slammed on his brakes. Automatically, I hit mine, but they locked. The back-end of the car in front loomed closer.
Lord, I cannot hit them! So, doing what any sensible driver would have done (or not), I aimed for the concrete divider, swinging sharply to the right.
My car plowed into that barrier. The tires screeched and drowned out the screams in my head. I skidded out of control at 180-degrees before stalling in the middle lane—facing on-coming traffic.
My world slammed to a stop.
The swishing of the wipers still swatted across the freshly cracked windshield. Music blared over the radio. My mind in a daze, I glanced in the rear view mirror. Apart from the fear in her moist eyes, I was thankful that my child was unscathed.
“It’s okay, Anna, don’t cry. Mommy’s gonna get us out of here.” But I hadn’t a clue as to how. I made a quick assessment of the wreckage: the hood had flown open, the front end caved in, the right headlights busted.
I rolled down the window to stick my head out, and became drenched by pelting rain and the splash from a truck blurring past.
Headlights from cars beamed as they swerved to miss us, terrifying me even more. Soaked and trembling with my nerves on edge, I prayed, Lord, how am I going to get the car off the road without causing a bigger accident?
I wasn’t even sure my car would budge.
Vehicles roared by, but one slowed and stopped. With headlights practically blinding me, the driver left his emergency lights blinking; he exited his car and made his way toward me, hunkering down from the rainfall. He scanned the inside my car, his eyes alarmed, yet warm.
“Miss, are you all right? Is your little girl okay?”
“Yes . . . yes, I think so,” I scarcely heard my own voice say.
“Put your emergency lights on. Need to get you out of this traffic.”
I nodded and watched my angel head back to his car, and pulled over onto the shoulder. When the coast cleared, he ran across the freeway and opened my door. I scooted over. He climbed in behind the wheel and proceeded to veer my Plymouth across the three lanes out of on-coming traffic, and onto the shoulder. Finally, he maneuvered my car in reverse to the off-ramp.
With the help of the kind rescuer and some prying of the hood to shut back down, I climbed behind the wheel again and towards Daddy’s house. I’m sure my stepmother’s heart came out of her chest at the sight of me driving a newly smashed-up car, with my baby girl in the backseat.
When I needed help the most, a total stranger—or perhaps a guardian angel—came to my rescue and showed me compassion. Something I will never forget.
(“For He will give His angels charge concerning you, to guard you in all your ways.” Ps 91:11)
© M.A. Perez, 2013, All Rights Reserved