Miracles

Many years ago, I lived with an abusive man, who outweighed me by 150 pounds. One frigid night in February, he had me by the neck and was slamming my head into the living room wall. I knew he was about to kill me. As I was losing consciousness, a dove landed on our balcony railing. My abuser stopped and marveled, thinking he could lure the bird inside. That dove gave me just enough time to escape the apartment.

I ran five miles to a friend's house, wearing keds, shorts, and a sweater, while my abuser chased me in his car. Diving into snowdrifts or hiding behind ice-covered shrubbery, I never felt the cold that night, as I concentrated on evading him. My friend wasn't home when I arrived, leaving me to sit miserably on her front porch, freezing; hoping I wouldn't be found. After about an hour, a police car pulled up.

I thought he was there to arrest me for trespassing. Instead, he invited me into his house, which was next door. His wife brought me warm clothes and prayed with me over a cup of hot tea, while her husband called his precinct to have someone come out and take my statement. They situated me safely in a hotel for the night, never asking for repayment or even leaving me with their names.

Sometimes our worst times present us with miracles we can't explain, and with people whose kindness we will remember all our lives.