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Topic: Protection, Guidance
God has a way of allowing us to be in the right place at the right time.
I was walking down a dimly lit street late one evening when I heard
muffled screams coming from behind a clump of bushes. Alarmed, I slowed
down to listen, and panicked when I realized that what I was hearing were
the unmistakable sounds of a struggle; heavy grunting, frantic scuffling,
and a tearing of fabric.
Only yards from where I stood, a woman was being attacked.
Should I get involved? I was frightened for my own safety, and cursed
myself for having suddenly decided to take a new route home that night.
What if I became another statistic? Shouldn't I just run to the nearest
pnone and call the police?
Although it seemed an eternity, the deliberations in my head had taken
only seconds, but already the girl's cries were growing weaker. I knew I
had to act fast. How could I walk away from this? No, I finally
resolved, I could not turn my back on the fate of this unknown woman,
even if it meant risking my own life.
I am not a brave man, nor am I athletic. I don't know where I found the
moral courage and physical strength---but once I had finally resoved to
help the girl, I became strangely transformed. I ran behind the bushes
and pulled the assailant off the woman. Grappling, we fell to the
ground, where we wrestled for a few minutes until the attacker jumped up
and escaped.
Panting hard, I scrambled upright and approached the girl, who was
crouched behind a tree, sobbing. In the darkness, I could barely see her
outline, but I could certainly sense her trembling shock. Not wanting to
frighten her further, I first spoke to her from a distance.
"It's OK," I said soothingly. "The man ran away. You're safe now."
There was a long pause and then I heard the word, uttered in wonder, in
amazement.
"Daddy, is that you?"
And then, from behind the tree, stepped my youngest daughter, Katherine.