Responding to a commotion on our front lawn, I found two men kneeling over a tiny lifeless body. A third man was collapsed about 20 feet from them. An off-duty police officer shouted at me to call for an ambulance and infant airway: "This child is not breathing!" I asked him why he wasn’t performing CPR and he replied, "I’m afraid I’ll damage his tiny lungs."

Having made the call, my attention turned to the man collapsed 20 feet away—I recognized him! "James" (not his real name) went to my church. I went to his side, wondering if he too was injured, but no! He was distraught that he had just run over and killed a child!

Requesting Divine Intervention

Placing my hand on his shoulder, I began to plead, "O, God, help! We need help!"

As a mother of five children, my heart went out to the man as well as the child.

After what seemed like F-O-R-E-V-E-R, the child suddenly inhaled! A great big sucking-in-air deep breath all on his own! My nurse’s training kicked into gear, assessing the gurgling sounds coming from his chest.

"His lungs must be full of blood," I thought.

Finally, we heard sirens as two ambulances, two police cars and a fire truck all arrived at the same time. I stayed with James while attendants gently placed a neck brace around the toddler’s tiny throat and three men carefully lifted him onto the stretcher. Away they sped, lights flashing and sirens screaming in the early evening.

A policeman asked if it would be alright to question the driver of the vehicle inside my home, since he was literally shaking from shock over this terrible accident. "Of course," I replied, "This man goes to my church. I know him." In my living room, I listened as this inconsolable man explained how his wife had left him and taken their two daughters. He had been driving in my neighborhood, hoping to catch a glimpse of his girls, but had not seen them. Then he began to wail, "God has forsaken me! I am certain of it now!"

A familiar sensation of warmth came over me as I heard myself respond to him, "No! God has not forsaken you, James! I know this looks bad, but…but, no! Something good will come out of this. I am certain." But my words only provoked another loud cry of agony and horror at what he had done. "I heard a thump, and then I felt a bump under the car. When I looked in the rear-view mirror, I thought, ‘How strange! Why would someone leave a doll in the street?’ Then I realized it was not a doll. It was a child!" And another wave of grief washed over him.

The doorbell rang and a fireman handed me two tiny running shoes. "Here, I found these in the street. I believe they are the baby’s shoes." I insisted the fireman show me exactly where he had found them. He pointed to a spot in the middle of the street, at the midline of my neighbor’s property. I quickly calculated the child had been knocked out of his shoes (they were still tied) and thrown 100 feet where he landed in front of my house.

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