I believe I was around 9 or 10 years of age when I lost my favorite dirt bike to an oncoming LTD.  I got hit by a car, and it was totally my fault; fortunately, I walked away with only grass stains on my jeans.  My favorite bike did not survive the encounter, so it makes me wonder how in the world did I walk away unscathed.

It was a beautiful summer day, and I decided to ride my bike down the street to play with my friends.  I got to where my friends were and they made it clear they did not want me there.  So, I thought I would be just as happy at home although it upset me a little that my so-called friends did not want me around.

So I take off down the road and I am a little angry, so instead of stopping at the stop sign, I run through it thinking I will be fine, and that is when I saw the green LTD coming around the curve moving at great speed.  I remember I froze when the car locked up its brakes, and all I could do at that point was brace for impact.

I woke up beside a light pole in shock, and I noticed the car was still going but very slowly; I was worried I had damaged the car so I started yelling at the driver to stop.  The driver did stop, and out stepped an African American lady who was probably in her 40’s.  She came over to me and was asking me if I was okay, and I told her I was fine.

I asked her if I had damaged her car, and she said she was not concerned about that; she was obviously more concerned about me.  I insisted I was okay, and after I convinced her I was, she got back in her car.  I thought I was fine, and then I picked up my bike and noticed the frame was bent and the back tire would not roll because of that.

When I noticed my favorite bike was bent, the water works started coming.  Was I really crying because the frame on my bike was bent, or was it from the shock that I had just cheated death?  Well, I will say it was probably a little of both.  I will admit that I was upset over my bike; I have always loved all the bikes I had, but this bike which was a Huffy, was my all time favorite, and I knew there was no fixing it.

I was mad at myself for running the stop sign, as I walked slowly back to the house.  Once I got to the house, the lady in the green LTD pulled up the driveway.  She wanted to make sure that I was okay.  She was so nice, and I felt so terrible for what I had done.  I suppose it is imperative not to let our emotions get the better of us, or something awful could happen.

Every day I find myself wondering how in the world I came out of the wreck alive.  I believe an angel swooped down and saved me; it could have been my Granddaddy who died when I was young.  All I know is I should not have walked away unharmed; when I woke up, I was a good fifteen feet from the point of impact, yet my bike was about five or six feet away.  I do not know; it is very strange to me, but all I have to say is I believe in angels, and I believe one saved me.  I am just thankful I did not die that day; thank you, God!

Take care and God bless!

Chris