Snow Angels

I moved into the left lane to pass the car that was going far too slow. The tires beneath me started swerving on the ice. I held the steering wheel and tried to gently keep going straight. The car started skidding to the right. I turned the steering wheel to the left. Then I remembered that you’re supposed to turn into a skid. So I turned the wheel right. I think I turned too hard. The car spun completely around and we continued skidding off the side of the road.

My mind was working double time to keep us safe. What are my feet doing? Am I pressing the gas? Should I press the brake? Is that a telephone pole? This car had better not slam into that pole. I don’t know what to do. I guess I willed the car away from the pole. Or something kept us from hitting it. I saw the pole a few feet away from the window and getting closer, then I saw it moving yards away. Then there was the whiteness of flying snow. At least I thought the glittering walls of white surrounding the car were snow.

The car stopped. In front of me was some sort of a field covered with snow. Behind me, the road with cars whizzing by. My girlfriend and I were not hurt one bit. How had we not hit the car I was trying to pass? (Let’s not talk about how mad I was at myself.) I looked out the side window. A fence. A barbed wire fence. The front tires were on a section of the fence that I had knocked down.

I put the car in reverse. Nothing. My girlfriend took the wheel. I tried pushing from the front. The tires just spun. There were no dents in the car, just a few scratches on the front left of the bumper. The ground was soft and the front of the car was stuck on an old rotting piece of wood. I tried pulling the wood out from under the car and the wire, but it wouldn’t budge.

Then an angel appeared. An angel in a white four wheel drive pickup truck. He joined the two vehicles with a thick yellow rope. The truck roared and pulled and the thick yellow rope snapped.

The angel examined the front of the car and diagnosed the problem. It’s that rotten piece of wood. He got the shovel out of the truck bed and started hacking at the wood and digging around it. The wood was rotted but it was too thick and too pinned beneath the car and the barbed wire.

The one tool that the angel needed he didn’t have. A jack. But we had one in the trunk. We took out all of the luggage and found the jack. He jacked up the jack, but it kept sinking into the soft ground. He wiped away the softest earth and put a couple of wooden blocks under the jack and kept at it.

I noticed that he worked quickly but he didn’t seem to be in a rush or in a hurry. When one attempt to free the car failed, he didn’t get upset or frustrated. He just thought of another plan and went to work. Didn’t that guy have somewhere to get to? Was he on his way to work? Why was he on the road? And why was he so willing to spend so much time helping us? It seemed like the only thing that mattered to him was helping us. He never looked at his watch. He never criticized us for spinning off the road. He was nothing but kind and helpful.

He got the wood out from under the tire, then he broke some small pieces off and put them behind the tire to give some friction. He pushed on the front of the car and my girlfriend put it in reverse. The car rolled back and the fence stood up. We were free.

Should I give the guy money? Do angels eat fudge? I didn’t shake his hand; in fact, I don't think I ever even touched him. The closest I came was when he handed me the jack. I didn’t think to ask his name. As we were about to part ways he told us to drive carefully, and he said it sincerely, not sarcastically.

I don’t know what he believes about God and eternity, but I would be surprised if, in the world to come, he’s not close to the throne.