Human kindness
When I was 12 or 13 years old, my mom and I went to Apollo, PA for their Moonlanding celebration. We used to live in the area and returned each year to see the fireworks and visit friends. As we were walking back to our car, it began to rain, so my mom rushed ahead in the grass, as I remained on the sidewalk surrounding a large, grass corner lot. At this same time, a 17-year-old boy was driving down the hill and didn’t slow down enough to make the left turn on the slick roadway. His car left the road and knocked me down. I passed out momentarily, then came to, ready to tell everyone that I was OK, until I saw my mother. While I was simply knocked off the side of the car, he physically plowed my mother down, then backed up and tried to flee the scene. In my white capri pants, I ran to kneel at my mom’s side. I could hear a gurgle as she struggled to breathe. She was surrounded with her blood, which covered my pants. As I cried uncontrollably, I felt powerless and alone. That is, until an angel of a woman lifted me to standing and hugged me until the ambulance arrived. She was a complete stranger and could’ve stood gawking as many others did, but she sought to ease my suffering. I have no idea who she was, but I will never forget her kindness, that she physically supported and comforted me at a time when I needed it most.
By the grace of God, my mom survived the accident. If we were not in a grassy area, where there was some give to the ground, I’m sure that the story would be different. She had a severe brain injury that required surgery and for her to remain in an induced coma for a while. Her tendon in one ankle was cut by something under the car. After recovering enough to leave the hospital, she had to go to a rehab to learn to do many things all over again. The entire process changed our relationship, and left me feeling like the adult for a while. I was so afraid of something happening to her again that I treated her like a child. Certainly this one event was pretty defining in my life. I wonder if that boy ever thinks about what he did, the fact that he wasn’t even screened for drugs or alcohol, that he almost killed someone. I wonder if that woman knows what a Godsend she was, being in my life at precisely the moment I needed her. It was an example of opposite reactions to a traumatic event: to flee or to stay and provide comfort. I am so grateful she decided to get involved that evening, to hug a strange little girl and offer support as she sobbed. Perhaps one day I will be in a situation where I can pay it forward.
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