One week ago Kirsti, my friend, her mom, and I were driving to camp. The trip would take about 5 hours and we were completely prepared for the long drive. We had snacks, pillows, and music, but nothing could prepare us for what was going to happen.
I was introducing Kirsti and her mom to Hamilton (of course), and we were listening to the song “That Would Be Enough.” Alexander Hamilton sang to his wife, “You should have told me.” Eliza’s answer rang out clear as a bell: “I’m not sorry.” Suddenly, I heard my friend’s mom gasp. I looked up, thinking that the gasp surely was not a reaction to the song. Through the front window I could see the back of a car coming towards us quickly. A screech filled the air. I flung forward in my seat. Thank God I had my seatbelt on. Our car collided. From my view I could see the back window of the car ahead of us splinter into a spiderweb of cracks. Turning my head to the screeching noise on the right I saw two cars completely smash into each other and crumple. Kirsti yelled and bent over, covering her head. Somewhere in the process I paused the music. Our car was now at a complete stop. An image of a domino-like chain reaction of braking cars crossed my mind, and I waited in terrible anticipation of a car crashing into us from behind. Muscles tense, I waited. Thankfully no car came. Breathless, I asked if everyone was alright. Kirsti burst into tears and leaned over and hugged me. I hugged her back, in a complete daze. “What happened?” I asked. My friend’s mom answered with shaky breaths. “A guy was driving like a maniac, and a car swerved to avoid him, then I slammed on the brakes to avoid him.” I looked to the right to the two cars that had completely smashed into each other. We slowly drove to the side of the 3-laned road to meet the other victims of the crash. A lady in a car ahead of us had hit her head on the impact, and it was bleeding. The ambulance, traffic police, and the jandarma (gendarme) began arriving at the scene. Curious as to what our car looked like after the crash, I got out and walked to the front. I stood, gaping at all of the other cars that were involved in the crash. Most were completely smashed in with shattered windows. Looking back at our car, my mouth hung open even more.
Our car had only a few scratches on it.
Kirsti and her mom joined me and we stared at the front bumper which had only a tiny dent and a few scratches. Compared to the other cars, our car was almost completely unscathed. In my mind I was thinking how my friend’s car could possibly have only had this much damage. “The Lord was protecting us.” I heard my friend’s mom say. I was not really shook up, (I usually take a while to process things) I could only replay the memories in my head. I thanked God for protecting us as Kirsti and I just stared at the scene of debris before us, sweating in the extreme heat. Meanwhile Kirsti’s mom called my mom and explained the situation. The police came by after a while and took pictures of the damage done to our car, even though it was barely any. Thankfully, we didn’t need to file a report or go to the police station, and in less than an hour, we were back on our way to camp. After 30 minutes of driving or so, I started the music that I had paused during the crash. As we continued to listen, Eliza’s voice called out to Alexander, “Look around, look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now.” My heart resonated with the lyric as we continued to drive, knowing that it was not luck but my heavenly father who protected us during the commotion.