Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Brakes and Angels
"Thank you, Guardian angels," my wife said. "Whoa. That was scary," my daughter said. I tapped the dashboard and said, "Good car; good brakes." We had just pulled off the interstate a mile from our house after a dinner out and a library stop Monday night. As I approached the last stoplight before reaching our home, I had seen a speeding car out of my left peripheral vision. In a few seconds, I checked the light. Yep, green. Traffic stopped. But that car's not stopping. Foot on brake, and the timing was right: we stopped a few inches from the other car running the red light. I could smell the rubber even though all the window were closed. Turning right off the main road three blocks later, my wife repeated her thanks to Guardian angels. I patted the dashboard again. On our street, the chatter came back to the car, and we pulled into the driveway. Anita tapped the dashboard and said, "Good car." I said I think our angels were watching out for us.

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