 Just
Passing Through
I am a school teacher, and a few years ago after an encounter with my
angel, I wrote the following personal narrative that I share each year
with my class. I am a creative writing teacher. It is an experience that
has driven me to search for real truths and the other side. I have read
many books on the subject and really seek a deeper purpose in this life.
I have an identical twin; she is also a teacher. I feel we are soul mates
through several lives. We are both believers in past lives. I am currently
reading several of Ruth Montgomery books. What is your concept on her and
Edgar Cayce's teachings? I have tried in vain to find the answers to the
many questions about this plain we exist presently upon. I feel almost
compelled to search for the real truth but need guidance. Books are my
only source. After years in several different churches, I have not found
my answers. Rules and criticism of other faiths have finally made me close
that door. I feel closer to God in this time of my life than I have ever
before; however, I miss dialogue with genuine seekers of the truth. Most
of my friends do not understand or are mechanical robots in their churches.
I want more than that. I MUST FIND THE ANSWERS.
The winter of 1994, had been unforgettable due to the vast amounts of
snow fall and ice that had crippled our area for weeks. However, the beginning
of March had given us promise of nicer weather as Spring slowly inched
its way around the corner, and winter's worst temper tantrums had gradually
ceased leaving only cold mornings, frost and ice blanketing the vulnerable
outdoors. Being a school teacher, I would leave early each morning for
my 20 minute drive to my school. My youngest son, Joshua, would accompany
me since he attended my school. This time to and from school became a time
of bonding throughout the years leaving precious memories.
That summer, we had purchased another van; however, because of its extended
top, we could not park it in our garage. On bitterly cold mornings, thick
frost would form on my windows forcing us to scrape each window before
our departure. One ominous morning as I was trying to scrape off a heavy
coating of ice and frost, my husband appeared in the driveway with a kettle
of hot, steaming water and threw it on the front window of the van. Regardless
of my alarm at the consequences hot water might do to the glass, he assured
me the temperature was not that hot. As my wipers raced back and forth,
the ice did magically vanish, but within seconds, ice crystallized once
again across my windshield leaving me frustrated. My husband becoming perturbed,
yelled for me to shut off wipers, since he assumed they had caused the
frost to reappear. He then departed only to reappear with more hot water.
Upon his return, I reminded him that hot water froze faster than cold which
would account for the frost's quick return. Without heed, a surge of steaming
water covered my windshield and again the ice miraculously melted.
"Don't turn your wipers on!" He admonished. So, slowly down
the driveway Josh and I ventured that dark, shivering cold morning. As
I carefully crept out onto our street that led to the highway, a glaze
of ice began to dance across my windshield; nevertheless, I still could
slightly manage to see the road. I had lost valuable time and decided the
defrosters would eventually warm the glass by the time I hit the main road
outside our subdivision.
Realizing my windshield was crystallizing, Josh asked if I could see.
I replied barely and with the defrosters still on high, I switched on my
wipers hoping that the ice would dissipate faster. By then, I had slowly
driven out onto the highway. In horror, the condition worsened within seconds.
The crystals became a thick opaque coat of milky white ice.
Josh, this time screamed, "Mom, can you see?"
A no nervously groaned from my lips. Except for a tiny peep hole at
the bottom of the windshield where the wipers had rested seconds ago, I
could not escape the blindness. With the realization of my circumstance,
I began to tremble knowing full well we were headed for trouble and that
I must pull off the highway; however, I could not see the road. My speed
had diminished to a crawl. I was aware that I also could not see traffic
behind me, around me, or in front of me. Searching for any way to see,
I discovered that I could see the highway's dividing line through the peep
hole that was still visible. Knowing my son's fear, too, I assured Josh
that I was able to see the dividing line and that I'd try to find the shoulder
of the road to pull off.
Instantly, Josh yelled, "Mom, look at the light!"
I too, had looked up at that precarious moment and saw through a glazed
windshield a light so bright that it reminded me of train lights. Shaking,
I screamed out to Josh, "My God, he's on our side of the highway!"
"No, Mom, I think you are on his side!" he blurted out in
terror. That thought raced through my mind as I was trying to figure out
another answer, but he had to be right. The white line I had thought was
the edge of the road was really the dividing line. By then, time slowed
to a trickle. Aloud, I pleaded with God and my guardian angel to help me
NOW! I needed help now! A blaring startle of a horn intensified my fear.
Dear God, it even sounded like a train. I knew if I were in the wrong lane
and would try to pull to the right, there might be that chance that I'd
pull into the direct path of a car in the right lane. I only had a fraction
of a second to make my choice. Slowly, hoping any cars in that lane could
realize my dilemma and allow me in, I eased my van to the right lane.
My body stiffened as I whispered, "Spare my son, God; please spare
my son!"
At that moment, a gush of wind rocked the van. Pebbles pelted its side.
The lights that were upon us were over-whelming in brightness. Although
the windows were up, a gush of wind passed through our vehicle of impending
doom. As our tires finally left the pavement and rolled slowly onto the
shoulder, my body loosened, muscles began to shake, and tears of thankfulness
rolled down my cold cheeks. We were safe! I looked out to take a glimpse
of what I had just missed only to see the black of the night staring me
in the face. Whatever it was had passed us, and we had missed one another
by millimeters, thank God. Safety embraced us again.
Josh looked over and noticed my exhausted condition. Since I was shaking
so badly, I knew I wouldn't be able to drive for a while. Just then, I
saw a car pulling up behind us as I glanced in my side mirror.
"Josh, I think an unmarked police car has just pulled up behind
us. He probably witnessed the whole thing and thinks I'm drunk. I'll have
to take a breath analysis test."
This was going to be embarrassing since I don't drink. I was also embarrassed
to think he had witnessed my almost fatal accident which I would have been
at fault. To the passenger side of our van came a pounding and a familiar
voice.
"Shirley, Shirley, are you all right?"
My neighbor, Gail, had pulled directly out behind me onto the highway
and watched the nightmare unfold. She figured I had had a heart attack
and watched in terror screaming from her window, "Get over, Shirley!
Get over, Shirley!" Finally, she realized I either couldn't hear her
or wouldn't hear her in time. She also revealed that the vehicle that was
upon us had been an eighteen wheeler. As she questioned why I had been
on "his" side of the road, I pointed to my windshield and explained
briefly my error. Realizing I was in no condition to drive, she instructed
me to remain in my van, and she would return shortly with my husband.
Later that evening, Gail called me to discuss once more my near-death
experience. At the end of our conversation, she explained that she had
hesitated to call me; however, she wanted to relate to me what she had
actually witnessed that I could not have because of the blinding ice.
"You didn't make it, Shirley. I saw everything clearly, since I
was directly behind you. You didn't make it, girl," she kept insisting.
"I don't understand, Gail. I did make it. God must have heard my cry
or my guardian angel lost a few feathers on this one," I tried to
jest.
"No, Shirley, I distinctly saw the left side of your van slowly
pass through the left side of that truck as you tried pulling off the road.
I could hardly believe what I was seeing, but I did see it. You didn't
make it."
Stunned and speechless, I knew, too, that someone did hear my soul cry
out that cold, dark morning and gave us another chance for life. Why? I
don't know. I just know that there is someone watching us. For years I
have believed in guardian angels. In fact, I named mine long ago, Constance,
since he is constantly watching over me. Thank you for allowing us to pass
through! --Shirley Lakes
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