The snow fell softly onto the road. Wiper blades intermittently removed flakes and
mist from my window as I attempted to keep my vehicle on the icy, snowy road in
the early hours of daylight.
Squinting into the distance of the oncoming traffic,
a car began to slide sideways at record speed across the center line, heading
directly into the car two cars ahead of me.
As if watching a movie in slow motion, a real-life horror played out
before my eyes. Seconds later the
vehicle ahead of me came to a dead halt in the ditch after slamming into the sliding-
sideways car, activating the air bag and blowing out the back window.
As if still watching a movie, myself and the man in
the truck ahead of me pulled over and ran to the two vehicles that now sat motionless. An eerie silence pierced the cold morning
air. Another passerby called for help.
Debris cluttered the highway with car parts, an
umbrella, glad bags filled with cheerios and other random objects.
No one opened the door to their vehicles to surmise
the damage as both drivers lay unconscious behind deployed airbags. The man in the truck whom I quickly learned
was named Charles, and I went to both vehicles to see what we could do to
help. Pounding in my chest, my heart was
triggered at the thought of what may await us as we approached the vehicles;
but I could not turn back.
Her voice was shaken and loud, though not nearly as
loud as the fear her eyes held as she met my own eyes with laser force. She was still in her booster seat. As a mother of three girls, I guessed her age
to be six. Her arm appeared to be broken
but it was quickly apparent her greatest fear was seeing her grandmother
unresponsive in the driver’s seat unable to provide comfort.
Lily, her name was Lily. Screaming for me to help her, she reached out
her good arm wanting me to hold her hand.
I was both taken aback and drawn in by her ability to portray such a
beautiful picture of fear with no reservations or excuses. Fully abandoned, unashamed, beautiful and
caring Lily began asking me question after question.
When my attempts to calm Lily were unsuccessful I
asked, “Do you believe in God?” I was unable to think of anything more
important to ask under our unique circumstances. “Yes,” Lily replied, continuing to stare
straight into my eyes. “Can we pray
together right now and talk to God?” I asked.
“Yes” she instantly replied, finally willing to trust this stranger
sharing her backseat donning a messy ponytail and black Nike cap.
I held Lily’s tiny outstretched hand in my own cold,
trembling hand and we began to pray. Her
grandmother remained motionless in the front seat as we prayed for God to bring
comfort and peace. I asked God to wrap
His arms of love around Lily and her grandmother among other things of which I
have absolutely no recollection.
However, as we prayed, the moment became surreal as I sensed God’s angel
army surrounding us. In that moment I
felt closer to God than I have in a very long time.
Eventually sirens sounded in the distance. Lily’s
face had grown pale as fear filled her heart.
I attempted teaching her breathing techniques to calm her and diversions
such as asking her about Christmas and gifts.
“I can’t talk about that right now” she stated, voice quivering, as her little
head dropped and her brave shoulders slumped, “I’m hurting too much. Can you pray again and keep praying?” she
asked.
So we prayed some more.
Lily became bold as she began telling me what to say
in my prayers, “Tell Him to make me not hurt.
Tell Him to help my Grandma.” She was wise beyond her six years; aware
that God was listening to us and confident that He would answer her sincere
prayers.
I do not know why Lily and her grandmother were hit
by the oncoming car instead of me.
I do know that sometimes we are given a rare glimpse
into the face of Jesus. His love is
manifest through the eyes of a child; His beauty reflecting through the
innocence of a child’s heart.
I will never forget the mighty warrior inside the
tiny frame of a six year old named Lily.
Stay the Course...
Sheila Cote
