image from agapegeek.com St. Michael, the Protector.
“The guardian angels of life fly so high as to be beyond our sight, but they are always looking down upon us.” ~Jean Paul Richter
For a long time now I’ve followed a morning and nightly ritual of ‘white lighting’ my family. For those who are not familiar with this, it is not imagining them struck by lightning, although there are times when I’ve been tempted. It is a simple practice of visualising white light surrounding each person in my family. This white light is from the Universe, a heavenly source or representative for good, whichever you are most comfortable with. This acts as a protection ‘bubble’ around them wherever they go throughout the day. It also covers their cars when I know they are going out. (I do the same for me too!)
On this particular day, my daughter was going to Uni and then coming home. I had a strange feeling that morning as I woke up, she was definitely on my mind. Nothing dramatic, just an uncomfortable feeling the closer it came time for her to leave. I followed my usual white light routine and went about my daily activities.
As the day wore on the feeling of discomfort grew, my intuition was working overtime so much so that I went through my white light routine several times and for some reason I felt compelled to really “reinforce” her car. I was counting down the minutes until she was due to come home. When I knew she would be about fifteen minutes away I started to become fairly agitated. I was going to call her but hesitated because I felt she would be driving home. At the same time I couldn’t shake the feeling that ‘something’ was imminent.
When the phone rang and I saw it was her number my immediate thought was that she had some car trouble and that this was the cause of the odd feelings I’d had all day. It had occurred previously and left her stranded in the middle of the night so at first, I put it down to that, yet it still didn’t feel right.
Then I heard an unfamiliar voice, which said, “You don’t know me, but I’m Fred Smith, a lecturer at the University. You need to prepare yourself for some very bad news. I have to tell you that your daughter has been involved in an extremely serious accident. Can you come immediately?”
This was ‘IT’, I simply knew it, intuitively knew this was what had been going to happen all day. After getting the location of the accident from him I grabbed my bag and keys and flew out the door. She was near the railway line about fifteen minutes from home. I don’t have a very clear recollection of that drive, although I do recall that I made the trip in five minutes which meant I had to have broken every speed limit and either went through a number of red lights or had an angel change each one for me. It’s possible it was a combination of both, but I wasn’t going to be delayed. There was something in that man’s voice which said “HURRY!”
As I arrived at the scene I saw one car slewed around into a street on the right, nose pointing up the hill and my daughter’s car was facing me which would have been her line of travel to reach home. I knew it was her car by the colour (purple) and general outline, but there were so many people, para medics and fire and rescue people, plus their vehicles surrounding her it was hard to be sure. I was certain.
I parked on the footpath, (not allowed) and as I strode (stalked perhaps) along towards her car I saw a group of four Asians sitting next to a garden fence. I briefly stopped to ask them if they had been in the accident and they answered affirmatively, in perfectly good English. None seemed hurt, just crestfallen. Two boys and two girls. At that moment they were relatively insignificant until I found out how my daughter was.
image from http://www.themorningbulletin.com.au –
However, I had been spied by a diminutive and rather rotund female paramedic who made a beeline towards me. She held her arms out and officiously asked me who I was. (I know the tone of an officious question!) On identifying myself as the drivers mother she peremptorily told me I couldn’t go to her, nor approach the car. I’m sure at that point that if I could produce steam from my ears it would have been blowing a siren call.
My daughter could see me and seeing me prevented from approaching became agitated and tearful. I can still barely believe she had been composed until then, probably the psychology she was studying and delayed shock. I was becoming more than a little annoyed, angry even. From a very young age I taught my children that if they could look me in the eyes and I told then they would be okay they had nothing to worry about. Psych 101 and it worked. So being restrained from approaching convinced her she was seriously hurt.
To be honest, I truly thought she might be but my intuition told me she was okay. The other vehicle had been speeding towards her on the way to Uni, and going too fast had failed to take the corner. Such was the force of the head on collision as they tried to turn that their car whipped around and the tail slammed into her driver’s door. The doors were wedged shut and her foot was trapped under the accelerator. The engine had been shoved backwards into the cabin. Her seat belt jammed and she couldn’t reach her bag or phone, hence the call from the strange man.
As the situation became more heated, with various threats from both sides, and despite her ‘authority’ she was in distinct danger of being trounced for being in my way. Fortunately for her, a giant of a man from the fire and rescue vehicle saw what was happening and sauntered over to ‘assist’. I’m not that tall, nor am I that small; 5’7″ is reasonable for a woman, but he was huge in all his gear. My rotund nemesis beat a retreat back to my daughters car, I took a deep breath and explained what the dolt was preventing me from doing.
You see all I need to do was get to her passenger side (where there were no rescue people) and talk to her. Promising to be good, I was escorted over to the car and spoke to my daughter. As suspected she was convinced she must be seriously hurt, she had been trapped now for two hours and not letting me near her had increased her belief that death might be imminent. Calmed down, I explained I had to move back so the rescue people could get the jaws of life to open her car up and get her free. My stalwart fire and rescue guy gave me a nice cool bottle of water. I think he hoped it might cool me down.
Ambulances came and ferried the four youths to the hospital who had all suddenly developed various ‘injuries’ and lost the use of the English language. My daughter was finally freed and I met her at the hospital. Heaven knows what that imbecile from the para medics told them but they eyed me askance from the moment I waked in. My daughter was kept waiting for hours whilst they treated the other youths, without even having her blood pressure taken. To say I was peeved was an understatement.
image from http://www.superstock.com
By the time a nurse arrived to talk to her the other four had already left with… no discernible injuries, but they had needed to wait for… you guessed it, an interpreter.
Numerous scans, tests, and so forth later they rather astoundingly told me that she seemed to be totally fine, only virulent bruising across her chest and abdomen and hip from the seat belt! Incredible and totally wonderful. I know that her guardian angel were watching out for her that day and that was the only reason she was still here with me. She was very stiff and sore but we were both relieved when, with painkillers in hand, we carefully made our way to the car and I took her sedately home.
POSTSCRIPT
Several days later, whilst my daughter was resting in bed the doorbell rang. It was the insurance assessor. After bringing him inside and sitting him down he proceeded to offer his condolences. Nonplussed I asked him why. Of course it was for the tragic loss of my daughter. He had just come from the car yard where the car had been towed and seeing the vehicle was sure she had been killed in the accident. He was very abashed on hearing she was resting comfortably in her room. I’m sure it was the first condolence call he had made that turned out to be unnecessary.
My daughter wouldn’t or couldn’t believe how serious the accident had been. Eventually I relented and took her to see the car. As I helped her to approach the car, since she was very stiff by then, she suddenly froze and the blood drained from her face. In front of her was the mangled remnant of her beloved little car. Apart from the initial damage it had been opened like a can by a can opener and looked awful. The truth finally hit home and we had to almost carry her back to my car to come home.
So, belief in Angels, the greatness of the Universe, good luck or whatever appeals to you, I know that without some assistance that day I would have lost my daughter. If not, she would have been seriously injured. There was no reason for me to feel so uncomfortable that day. It was a journey she regularly made, yet on this day it was different. Nothing will ever convince me we didn’t have a helping hand or three. My intuition didn’t let me down.
image from http://www.impactlab.net My daughter was wrapped in the arms of an angel. I’m good with that.
“The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us and we see nothing but sand; the angels come to visit us, and we only know them when they are gone.” ~George Elliot
So tell me, what do you think?
A very happy and grateful Momma.
Ciao, Susan x
Owls and Orchids 