I almost died at the age of seven. Sure, we all use the expression "almost died" or "could have died," but this was no joke. It all started when my sister took me to the grounds of Concordia Seminary where she helped me perfect my bike riding skills by having me circle the parking lot. Once I got good at it, she encouraged me to ride down the hill toward the street.
This wouldn't have been a problem for most kids, you just put your feet on the pedals and coast your way down; however, I didn't have the concept of coasting. With full pedal pushing strength, I flew down that hill. I enjoyed the wind in my face and the thrill of the fast ride until I neared the bottom and spied a car headed straight at me.
In a panic, I pumped the break with no luck because at such a fast speed, one does not stop easily. Now here comes the weird part: right as I was set to plow head first into the car, someone grabbed the handlebars of my bike and moved me out of the way. No one was there.
So you're probably thinking I'm nuts, insane, crazy, or just plain coo coo, but I swear, someone pulled my bike out of the way of that car. No doubt about it. My bike moved to the left, and I crashed into a grassy hill, which gave me two bloody knees. That was no big deal since I rarely saw knee skin throughout my entire childhood anyway.
My sister told me how brilliant I was for turning the wheel of the bike. I didn't turn the wheel. I'm not sure who did. Maybe it was an angel, or a relative who was never more or not yet. No telling about that, but one thing's for sure: I was not meant to die at age seven.
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| 1960s Schwinn |
In a panic, I pumped the break with no luck because at such a fast speed, one does not stop easily. Now here comes the weird part: right as I was set to plow head first into the car, someone grabbed the handlebars of my bike and moved me out of the way. No one was there.
So you're probably thinking I'm nuts, insane, crazy, or just plain coo coo, but I swear, someone pulled my bike out of the way of that car. No doubt about it. My bike moved to the left, and I crashed into a grassy hill, which gave me two bloody knees. That was no big deal since I rarely saw knee skin throughout my entire childhood anyway.
My sister told me how brilliant I was for turning the wheel of the bike. I didn't turn the wheel. I'm not sure who did. Maybe it was an angel, or a relative who was never more or not yet. No telling about that, but one thing's for sure: I was not meant to die at age seven.
9 comments:
Glad you didn't die at seven. Do you think your subconscious turned the handlebars.
Thanks for commenting.
No, it was not my subconscious because I felt the jerk of the bars as the being grabbed them. It was a sudden strong pull.
Friendly ghost, perhaps.
It probably was your guardian angel. Thank goodness you were okay! Julie
Someone was definitely looking out for you! That must've been quite a scare ...
I don't think you sound even a little bit crazy. I knew a man who said that when he was a child, someone pulled him onto the curb by the back of his shirt right before he was about to be struck by a car. No one was there, either.
Wow! That obviously was a genuine experience or you wouldn't remember it so vividly. Those are the things that stick in our minds. I agree with WN - your guardian angel was watching over you. You were meant for greater things, for sure!
Spooky! You were very lucky that day.
I love stories like that. :-) I already have faith in God but to see it manifested through action like that is awesome, no matter what you want to call it - guardian angel, etc. :-) Awesome. :-)
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