This time last year I had a pretty major car crash - and when I say major, I mean I really stopped traffic, six lanes, both sides of the A2 (it's actually more like a motorway at that point.) Getting hit twice by an articulated lorry, spinning across three lanes in the middle of the morning rush hour, colliding with (and denting) the central reservation barrier and flipping over onto your roof doesn't do much for the bodywork. Especially when those nice men from the fire brigade promptly cut the car open like a tin can in order to get you out...
...none of the people from the emergency services (police, ambulance and fire brigade) could believe that I'd survived the crash, and with nothing more than bad bruising and a tiny cut on one finger from a fragment of glass. The insurance assessor bluntly told me that he'd double-checked with the company when he'd seen the state of the car, because he was sure that the driver would be "out of the picture" and he needed to know who to speak to.
I thought I was going to die after the first impact, and I started to pray the Hail Mary as I wanted to die with those words on my lips. Our Lady and my Guardian Angel obviously had other ideas...
2 comments:
WOW. That is incredible. Not many of us can boast such an experience... The power of prayer.
Umm... it was certainly an experience... but at the risk of sounding slightly churlish, one I would have been happy to forego!!
Surprisingly, I wasn't praying to be saved, as I was totally convinced that survival was impossible...
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