He lifted me out
Had she hit another car? No one seemed to be nearby; Beth heard no shouts, no footsteps racing toward her. Shocked and dazed, she was afraid to open her eyes. What if she did--and saw herself maimed? She couldn't face it, at least not yet.
Then, as she lay sobbing, she sensed that she was not alone. Someone had approached her, was bending over her. His hand gently brushed her brow. "Take it easy," he said quietly. "I'll get you out of here."
Thank God the paramedics had arrived! It had all happened so fast... Trembling, Beth felt the man's firm arms around her. Carefully he lifted her, carrying her to what was probably the side of the road. Eyes still tightly shut, Beth felt him lay her gently on the damp grass, an aura of tenderness about his movements. The blades tickled her cheek. Slowly, she moved every part of herself. Why, she could wiggle her toes, feel her fingers. She was bruised and shaken, but she seemed to have only minor injuries, despite the violence of the crash.
She would open her eyes in a minute, she decided, as soon as she sensed her rescuer was near. "Where are you?" she called to him. But there was no response. Then Beth heard sirens in the distance. More paramedics?
A van screeched to a stop beside her, and now Beth did peek. Two shadowy uniformed figures were running toward her. "Lady, how did you get to the side of the road?" one asked.
"The man," Beth tried to look for him. "He lifted me out.."
"No one could have lifted you out of that, lady," the paramedic responded, strapping a blood pressure cuff around Beth's arm.
"Maybe she was thrown," suggested his partner.
"Are you kidding? Look at that car," argued the first.
It was then that Beth opened her eyes completely and looked at the accident scene. Hers was the lone vehicle on the road, wedged against a parkway tree. It was obvious that she had skidded, flipped over and rolled without involving anyone else.
But it was the car itself that held her attention. Both doors were crushed and jammed shut, and the roof had caved in. No one could have been brought out of that twisted metal without a great deal of painful and time-consuming maneuvering. Yet she had felt herself lightly lifted, carried effortlessly through the metal maze to safety. Who had done it? "The first paramedic?" Beth whispered. "Where did he go?"
"We're the only ones on this call," the second man told her. "And you were alone when we arrived."
Beth's injuries healed easily, and she has learned to drive more carefully. But the memory of that quiet rescue will be with her forever.
� 2002 by Joan Wester Anderson
For more stories of God's love, visit the website at:www.joanwanderson.com