After dropping off my son at high school, I stopped at the grocery store to get a few things for dinner. Just as I started through the check-out line, my cell phone rang.
It was my daughter, crying hysterically. “Mom! I’ve been in a car accident!”
On the freeway. In the fast lane. During the early morning commute.
A typical scenario–one car (who knows why?) made a fast brake and all of the ones behind it had to slam on their brakes. There is no margin of error on our California freeways.
After making sure she was okay, I listened to the details of the accident, then called my husband (who was sitting at his desk, miraculously! He’s one of the World’s Hardest People to Contact.). He called our daughter and assessed whether the car was driveable as I zoomed down the freeway to find her.
When I got to the scene of the accident, the young man whose car was also involved was still waiting with her–an incredibly kind, calm person, who walked her through all of the insurance details, called the insurance company and started the claims process.
Then, he told my daughter not to worry and patted her gently on the back.
I followed my daughter home, thanking God for His provisions of safety and kindness.
It could have been a much different morning. We have a bashed-in car, but a daughter in one piece.