A Treasury of Miracles for Teens (14 page)

“Please, God …” This time she whispered the words out loud as she climbed inside. “Let me get through safely. Don’t let me
cross that Summit if it’s going to be too dangerous.”

She drove along surface streets toward Route 22, wondering if she should wait it out or try to cross the Summit before the
storm hit. She could feel her stomach churning. Usually if the sky was blue, she’d take a chance and make it just fine. But
something about these clouds looked more dangerous, more ominous, than usual. She knew she would have to
drive up the steep grade of the Allegheny Mountains before reaching the Summit, where the roadway leveled out at the top of
the mountain range. Route 22 was extremely dangerous there because without the protection of surrounding mountains crosswinds
made driving treacherous even in mild weather. Signs warning drivers about the danger of crosswinds were scattered along the
Summit. But still accidents were commonplace.

Amy continued making her way toward the on ramp, frustrated by the heavy traffic. There seemed to be a sense of panic and
confusion among the other drivers as people flooded the roads, attempting to reach their destinations before the storm descended.
Wind began blowing, and Amy was thankful that Route 22 was less than a block away.

Then, up ahead, she spotted a fast-food restaurant.

Suddenly she was gripped by a strong urge to pull in and order something from the drive-through window. She shook off the
feeling, determined to stay on the road. Every minute would be crucial in clearing the Summit before the storm. The traffic
crept forward, and again Amy was nearly overcome with the desire to pull off the road and get something to eat.

“This is crazy.” She muttered the words out loud and tapped out a nervous beat on the steering wheel. It was two o’clock and
she’d eaten lunch at
school. There was no reason why she should be hungry. She drew a deep breath. She never stopped for food on the way home from
college and today would not be an exception. Her family would have dinner in a few hours, after all.

But the more determined she was to wait until later to eat, the more persistent became the urge to stop. Now. As she drew
closer to the fast-food restaurant, Amy’s skin became hot and tingly and she felt light-headed. She exhaled hard and slumped
in her seat. She was prone to bouts of low blood sugar, but usually only if she skipped a meal. Still, there was no question
her symptoms were just that.

Can’t I wait, Lord? Do I have to eat now? I want to get home so badly, God.

Just as she was about to pass the restaurant and proceed down the road, a voice rang through the car.

“Stop and eat, Amy.”

Her eyes flew open and she shot a look at the backseat. There was no one there, no one else in the car. At the same time she
checked the radio. But it was off. A chill ran down her arms. She had heard the voice as clearly as if someone was sitting
beside her. But with even the radio off, there was no logical explanation as to where it came from. Stop and eat? Amy played
the words over in her mind.

At the last possible instant, she stepped on the
brake and turned into the fast-food restaurant parking lot toward the drive-through window.

Still baffled by the voice and her own actions, Amy ordered a cheeseburger and then waited. She stared at the approaching
clouds, her heart ricocheting strangely within her. The cashier seemed to take an eternity preparing and bagging her order.

“Come on, hurry.” Amy leaned back against the headrest until finally her sandwich was ready. The sky was growing still darker,
and she was terrified at what would happen if she didn’t get on the highway soon.

Finally the cashier handed her the burger and Amy drove off. She was about to pull back into traffic when another wave of
heat and clamminess washed over her. The feeling reminded her of a time when she’d broken her ankle and immediately afterwards
fainted from the pain. But there was something different about the way she was feeling now. Almost as though the heat was
emanating from somewhere inside her body. She saw an open parking spot and without thinking, she pulled her car into the spot
and turned off the engine.

“Why am I wasting so much time?” She was angry with herself, frustrated at her indecision and the strange feelings that nearly
suffocated her. “I’ve got to get on the road. Mom and Dad’ll be scared to death about me.”

Giving in, she loosened her coat and seat belt and ate the cheeseburger. Instantly she felt better,
and in a moment the intense heat and clammy feeling were gone completely. Because she was prone to low blood sugar, there
had been times when Amy had felt light-headed before. But never had eating caused those feelings to disappear so quickly.

Her strength renewed, Amy strapped her seat belt back into place and eased her car into traffic. Although the sky was frighteningly
dark, there was still no snow, and she whispered a prayer of thanks as she drove up the on ramp for Route 22 and began climbing
toward the Summit.

Minutes later, as her car continued to climb the mountainside, snowflakes hit her windshield. She drew a deep breath.
Okay, Amy … you can do it. Please God … guide me.
She flipped on the headlights and kept her eyes on the road ahead. Careful to leave a safe distance between her car and the
one in front of her, she continued up the mountain.

As she drew closer to the Summit, the snow began coming down in sheets.

Fear wrapped its arms around her. She should have stayed back at the restaurant. Even if it meant waiting until the next day
to go home, it would’ve been better than trying to cross the mountain range in a blinding snowstorm. Gripping the steering
wheel tightly with both hands, Amy slowed some and continued up the road to the level place along the top of the Summit. Suddenly,
without the protection of the mountain range, the snow completely engulfed the roadway. Amy was in the middle of a
whiteout, with wind howling in different directions and huge snowflakes making it impossible to see more than a few feet.

Amy’s heart beat wildly as she gently pumped the brakes. If someone hit her from behind, even a minor accident could send
her through the guardrails, tumbling to certain death thousands of feet below. She fixed her eyes ahead, glancing occasionally
into the rearview mirror. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make out anything but the front of her own car.

One minute passed, then two. Finally Amy saw that the car she was following had stopped. She could see only his taillights
immediately in front of her and had no idea whether either of their cars were still on the highway. But at least she was no
longer moving through the blinding snow, and when she saw lights stopping behind her as well, she allowed herself to feel
relieved.
The traffic’s stopped everywhere,
she thought.
We’ll have to wait it out.

Minutes passed and then abruptly, as quickly as it had settled over them, the snow cloud lifted and Amy could see that she
was the tenth car behind a jackknifed tractor-trailer blocking the road. The driver was out of the cab walking around, and
no other vehicles seemed to be involved.

“Thank God no one’s hurt.” Amy picked up her cell phone and dialed her parents’ number.

“It’s Amy. I got stuck in a snowstorm on the Summit.”

“Honey, we’ve been worried sick.” There was relief in her father’s voice. “Is it safe now?”

“The storm’s lifted. But there’s a jack-knifed truck in front of me. It could be awhile.” Amy hesitated. “Daddy, I’m sorry.
I should’ve waited until the storm passed.”

“Is it still snowing?”

“No. It left as quickly as it came.”

There was a pause on the other end. “Wait a minute.” A news program sounded in the background. “Amy, there’s an accident up
there. Right where you are. Can you see it?”

Amy peered ahead of her. “All I can see is the truck. Doesn’t look like any other cars are involved.”

The traffic began to inch forward. “Be careful, honey. It’s still dangerous until the roads are clear.”

“I know. The roads must be a mess everywhere.” Traffic continued to inch past the tractor-trailer, and Amy followed it. The
moment she moved past the wreckage, she shrieked. “Dad … no! It’s too awful!”

“What?” Her father’s voice was filled with alarm. “Amy, are you there?”

“You can’t believe what I’m seeing.” Amy felt tears sting her eyes as she described the scene to her father. On the other
side of the jackknifed truck there were dozens of cars smashed together, piled on top of each other in the ditch between the
two sides of the highway.

It was easy to see what had happened.

When the whiteout came upon the Summit, the drivers must have done everything possible to avoid going over the cliffs. In
doing so they had overcompensated and driven into the center ditch, hitting each other head-on in several cases.

“I have to stop, Dad. Someone might need my help.”

“Amy …” Her father stopped himself and sighed. “Please be careful, sweetheart. Call me when you get back into the car.”

Amy hung up and pulled her car over. The man in the car in front of her did the same and climbed out, running toward the mangled
stretch of vehicles. Moments later he returned and asked Amy if he could use her cell phone.

“It’s unbelievable.” He pointed back to the mangled stretch of cars. “People are lying all over the road. Some of them look
like they’re dead.” The man shook his head. His teeth chattered in the icy wind. “A few minutes earlier and we’d have been
in that disaster. It makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

A sudden sense of knowing passed over Amy.

“Is there anything I can do?”

The man shook his head. “I’ll call for help. These people need a lot more than you or I can do.”

While he placed the call, something on the floorboard of her car caught Amy’s eye. The crumpled empty cheeseburger wrapper!
Suddenly it all made sense. If she hadn’t heeded the voice, if she
hadn’t stopped and gotten something to eat, her car would be one of those caught in the massive accident. She might even be
dead now.

Amy closed her eyes and remembered something else. It had taken just seven minutes for her to pull off the road, purchase
the burger, and eat it. Seven minutes. But God had used that precious bit of time to keep her from certain tragedy.

“Here you go.” The man’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and she opened her eyes. He handed her the phone. “They’re sending
a dozen ambulances.” He turned to go. “I’m going to see if there’s anything else I can do. You stay here. It’s not something
I’d want my daughter to see.”

In minutes, ambulances arrived at the scene, and police ordered Amy and the other unharmed drivers in the area to remain in
their cars as rescue vehicles raced to the accident victims. An hour later they were given permission to turn around and follow
a police escort back down the highway, since the road was closed to all oncoming traffic.

It took nearly three hours for Amy to drive home using a detour route. During that time she pondered the importance of prayer
and the mercy of God. She also prayed for the victims who had not been spared. Why had she been allowed to live? And why had
others died? Amy swallowed hard and kept her eyes on the road. It was hard to imagine that God had been so merciful to her
and. yet had allowed many of the others to perish.

Then she remembered something her father had told her once. The kindest thing God had ever done was provide a way to heaven
through Jesus Christ. Today simply wasn’t her day to go home. And that was part of the mystery of God. He saw things differently,
and only he knew the reasons why things had happened the way they did.

Weeks later, a white cross was erected at the site of that afternoon’s horrific pileup on Route 22. Thirty vehicles had been
involved in the accident, and nearly a dozen people had lost their lives. The cross was placed near one of the crucial signs
warning of the perilously dangerous crosswinds that plague the Summit and the risk of sudden storms in the area.

Amy still commutes across the Summit to and from school, but she has moved into a dorm and makes the trip less often. Still,
every time she does, she drives by a certain fast-food restaurant, whispers a heartfelt thank-you to God, and remembers the
day he used a cheeseburger to save her life.

G
reg Jamison had always been the most popular guy at school. Though some of his buddies drank, he had always stayed away from
alcohol. Until that fateful winter week during Christmas break.

Tall with dark hair and blue eyes, Greg was handsome and athletic. Every sport he played came easily to him. The trouble was
it came
too
easily for him. Because of that he had stopped relying on God, stopped attending his parents’ church, and almost stopped
believing altogether.

That winter week, football season had ended and basketball hadn’t yet begun. Greg had used the time to attend a handful of
parties and do something he had always meant to avoid—drink beers with his buddies. At first the alcohol had burned his throat,
but after a while it wasn’t so bad. And the way he felt after a few drinks made talking to the girls even easier than usual.

After a week of drinking with his friends, staying out late, and sleeping in until noon, one of his friends asked him to another
party. But this time the stakes were higher.

“I scored some pot,” his friend told him. “There’s nothing like it, man. You gotta go.”

“Alright, cool. See ya there.” Greg’s stomach churned the moment he heard himself say the words.

On the night of the party, he fought with his parents before leaving.

“You’ve been out too much this week, Greg.” His mother caught up with him near the front door. “Stay home tonight. We’re watching
A
Charlie Brown Christmas.”

For a single moment, a twinge of regret pierced Greg’s heart. Charlie Brown’s Christmas special had once been his favorite
holiday movie. But that was a lifetime ago. The moment passed as quickly as it had come and Greg made a face. “I’m too old
for that. And I’m too old to stay home during Christmas break.”