It was a clear sunny day. As I turned slowly through the parking lot, there appeared from seemingly nowhere a car driving approximately 40 miles an hour coming straight at me. I was in too far to the turn to either stop or turn back, so I kept moving as his nose raced pass my tail so close that I was sure we would hit. In fact, I was so sure that moments later I thought how much like a dream it was. Miraculously, we passed within what must have been a hair's breadth of each other.
Shaken, I thanked God. I gulped oxygen as my body and mind caught up with each other.
The next most logical move was clearly a Russian candy run, so I stopped in at my favorite ethnic market for some exotic candy. After one's life (or car) has been spared, celebration is the only fitting response.
I downed a couple on the way home, or maybe three, and my gratefulness was far sweeter than the candy.
Oh how often a small thing saves us from catastrophe. How inexplicable when it doesn't, as my father's fatal car accident proved.
My 'almost crash' wouldn't likely have proved fatal, but extremely complicating, as both my husband and I use one car every day for our income generating jobs.
Did I mention I was grateful?
Three candies before noon surely demonstrates this, as my children know I never eat candy until after lunch.
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