Friday

Last week on Friday afternoon, I was sitting at work and finishing up some documents that my director needed to sign before he took off for a week of vacation. As I headed up stairs to have him sign them, I passed a family who had come in for some financial assistance. It was a father and three children, ages 7, 4, and almost 1. They were loud, rambunctious, beautiful children. I chatted with my director for a few minutes, then went back downstairs. This time I past by our receptionist again, but she was franctically calling an ambulance. In the time it took me to walk up and down the stairs, the family had gone outside, crossed the street, and the two girls had been hit by a car.

I immediately called the director and told him what was going on, and we both went outside. The seven-year-old was lying in the middle of the street with people all around her. She wasn't moving at all. The four-year-old was sitting up in the street, and she was crying. The father was just kind of walking around in a daze, and one of our employees, Tommy, was holding the baby boy. The man who hit them was sitting in his car. He was also really shaken up. I was afraid that there was going to be some sort of incident, him being white and everyone else being black, but a cop came and took him into custody. I was glad for that.

Aparently, the dad had been holding the baby. He had looked and made sure there were no cars coming, and crossed the street. The two girls followed behind him. Everyone says the car just came out of nowhere. Now, I don't know if the girls had lagged behind, or what. But the car struck the seven-year-old head on and the four-year-old must have been scrapped by it. The seven-year-old was killed almost instantly. I was very thankful that she didn't look injured. There was no blood, there were no marks on the visible parts of her body. Here eyes weren't even open. She just looked like a little girl, wearing a pink shirt and jean shorts, lying in the middle of the street. It was very merciful for the family and everyone there.

The ambulance came, and they put the four-year-old on a stretcher. She was crying, but she looked ok. She had a couple of scrapes, but nothing too serious. They covered the six-year-old with a blue sheet. The ambulance hung out for a while to see if they dad wanted to ride along with, but he couldn't make any decisions. He just kept saying "I need to wait for my wife... I have to try to find my wife..".

When thinking about why it happened, its anyone's guess. I don't think there was any human fault involved. Maybe there was some sort of spiritual being who, having free will, decided to cause some distruction. Maybe God needed that little girl for something up in Heaven. Just because we always think of death as a bad thing, I don't think that God does. One minute this girl was running and playing and goofing around with her sister, and then next she's up in Heaven with Jesus.

She was a special little girl - always thinking of her brother and sister before herself, always helping them out and looking out for them. Right before she died, she had just eaten some banana pudding from our kitchen as a snack. She had colored a picture for her mom which said "I love you" on it. I hope her mom gets it.

I'm very thankful for several of the bystanders involved. One of them is a lady named Nellie. She lives in the four-plex that my company owns. When she saw what happened, she immediately went to the side of the seven-year-old. She heard the girs say "momma". She said "its ok, pumpkin, momma will be right here." After she heard that, the little girl was gone. Realizing this, she immediately went to the aid of the four-year-old, and held her. Some lady came over and actually told the girl that her sisiter was dead. Nellie lit into her like a cat, and the lady took off. Then Nellie continued to hold the little girl, who started to call her "nanna", and told her that everything was ok, that she was just going on a ride to the doctor, so that she'd be ok. She really was a hero.

I don't think I'll ever be able to get the immages of that afternoon out of my head - the girl lying in the street, a huge fire-truck with a little girl's shoe sitting in its shadow, the dad with his head in his hands, the driver in shock. You know, I hope I don't forget. Its important that people be remembered, and I need to remember to pray for them. There have been some big holes blasted into that family, and only God can fill them. Please pray.