I shivered as I gathered my bright orange raincoat close to me and curled up in the back seat of the car. With our trip to a church conference behind us, I was ready to relax and let the driver worry about the few flakes of snow in the air.
The highway stretched before me like a brown ribbon and we were almost home. A tiny speck appeared down the road to the right of the highway. I squinted, then, as the metres slipped by I realized what I was seeing. A small boy was riding a battered blue tricycle down the side of the road and behind him, pointed tail high in the air, was a small shaggy kitten.
“Stop!” I screamed. “There is a child on the highway!”
My driver had also realized what she had seen and had braked. As it slid to a stop I flung open the door and started running.
The tiny figure, innocent of the danger, was completely dwarfed by the oncoming traffic. I hadn’t realized we had been going downhill but now realized the trucks and cars appearing like magic behind me might not be able to see the little boy. My orange coat fanned out like a bright beacon as I ran down the hill. My last few steps seemed to be in slow motion. I was praying every step of the way. Dear God, let me get there in time.
He turned as I approached, beaming a warm smile and for a moment we seemed to stand there in a little world of our own. He lifted his tiny hand and presented me with a gift. Nestled in his warm palm was a large rusty bolt … a boyish treasure. I examined it and gently returned it to the giver.
My car driver finally arrived and seeing the breathless state I was in, picked up the little tot. He cried for his kitten and I managed to drag it out of the grass with one hand, my other clinging to the blue bike. I was visibly shaken and when my driver asked if I was okay I just nodded, unable to speak.
I am afraid I was less than pleasant to the boy’s mother, who lived down the road. She had been “wondering” where he was. Of course, she hadn’t been there seeing the cars zooming over the hill straight for him.
There are still times when my heart pounds when I remember the scene that mother was spared. I thank God I was there in my bright orange coat, thankful that I was fit enough to run and thankful it was not a broken little body I had to pick up, but a whole and healthy beautiful little boy.
