I saw something today that I will never be able to erase from my mind. I saw a mother lying in the dirt cradling the head of her son who had just been hit by a truck.
I was coming home from town with DH, following my son's bus down the road, just talking about nothing in particular. As we rounded a corner near my house we saw red and blue lights. Uh, oh. that is never a good sign. We saw a red F250 sitting mangled in a ditch and could tell that it had rolled. Then we saw the boy. He was close to the same age and size as my oldest son. I KNEW my son was in the bus, but for just a moment, I saw him in the dirt there. His mother was lying in the dirt next to him with her face close to his, with her arms wrapped around his head. I burst into tears because for a moment, I put myself in her shoes. I was horrified, I was furious, I was devastated. I was her, and her son was mine.
The truck had been going way too fast and hit the boy before rolling. The kids on the school bus he had just gotten off of saw the whole thing. I have no idea if the boy survived, but I know the helicopter came and left without him. I don't think that is a good sign. I have been trying to find out all day if he made it.
Suddenly, none of my problems matter. Nothing I am going through even comes close to what his family is feeling tonight. My kids are all home and safe. My family is whole. I am blessed. I am thankful.