On a warm sunny spring day in 1979 I left for work and was following a pickup on a narrow city street, going about 20 mph and far enough behind to see all the way under the truck. A young girl, later learned she was six, ran into the street and I saw the truck run over her. Saw her rolling under and all the way to the rear of the truck and then lay still on her back. I called for an ambulance with trembling hand as I stopped. I knelt beside her, grease and dirt all over her little dress, her eyes wide open. With the worst kind of helpless feeling I was kneeling looking at her. Then she blinked. With shock I asked her if she could hear me. She said yes. As I felt her arms and feet and hands looking for broken bones I asked her if she hurt anywhere, she said no. I then helped her stand and took her up and carried her to the poch of the house, hugging her all the while. I then softly told her, careful she did not see my eyes welling up, that she should always look first. She said she would not do it again. I had to call someone to drive the driver of the truck away because he was so shaken. Her mother then arrived and all ended well. You know, miracles do happen.
Posted on: Sat, 05 Apr 2014 15:32:52 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015