84: Rainy Day Rescue

84: Rainy Day Rescue

From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Hope & Miracles

Rainy Day Rescue

Your mind knows only some things. Your inner voice, your instinct, knows everything. If you listen to what you know instinctively, it will always lead you down the right path.

~Henry Winkler

I cannot remember the first time I had a strong intuitive feeling I needed to act on. But I do remember the day that feeling saved an old woman’s life. It was the day after Easter. I was fourteen.

A couple of friends and I were helping the minister at our church with a collating project, assembling books for a meeting to be held that day. Suddenly I heard a voice inside my head: “Go for a walk in the cemetery. Go now!” I looked up. “Did you hear that?” I asked my friends.

“Hear what?” my friends said.

“Never mind,” I said.

“Go for a walk in the cemetery. GO NOW!” Afraid of looking foolish in front of my friends, I did not mention the voice that apparently only I could hear. The voice was so compelling, so loving, and I felt so safe, that there was nothing I wanted more than to take a break from our task in the church library and go for a walk.

“I m going for a walk in the cemetery. I’ll be back in soon.”

“It’s a little gray and drizzly,” one friend said.

“I know.” Out I went.

The large, rambling cemetery that bordered the huge church on three sides was deserted. Wreaths and vases of flowers decorated many headstones, but not a person besides me was out. I wandered among the graves, enjoying the damp quiet of early spring. From a young age, I could feel the presence of God anytime I was in nature, and even in the chilly drizzly overcast, this day was no exception.

A lone car drove into the cemetery, stopping down the gravel road from where I walked. An old woman got out. As she walked away from her car I saw it begin to move, rolling backwards. The old woman reacted, racing toward the car door, and as the car’s back wheels slid down over a small bank, she disappeared from view.

I ran toward the car and saw a terrible sight—the old frail woman, her leg pinned under the wheel of the car sunk in the mud!

“Ma’am!” I yelled, running toward her. “I will get help! I will be right back! I will help you!”

Running blindly around the outside of the church, I stumbled inside, and found the meeting room full of clergy. “There is a lady in the cemetery! Pinned under her car! She needs help! Someone call an ambulance, please!”

There were blank looks around the boardroom table, until the light dawned and finally my own pastor asked, “Where?” as he and two other men got up to follow me.

We raced to the cemetery and I knelt down by the old woman, who was shaking and incoherent but still conscious. “It will be okay,” I said. “An ambulance is on its way. These men are here to help you.” The three men had jacked up the car and had pulled the woman out by the time the ambulance came. My next-door neighbor, a volunteer firefighter, was driving. They loaded her up and drove her to the hospital.

I sank to the ground, shaking and crying. I thought about what might have happened if I had not been there. She could have died afraid and alone in a deserted, rainy cemetery.

I found out later, from my neighbor, that the old woman survived, although bruised and battered, and she was able to go home in a few days. I never learned her name and never saw her again.

~Deborah J. Kinsinger

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