I spent an overly amount of time contemplating today. I centered on a certain Sunday in February 1954 when I was delivering morning newspapers in East Orange, New Jersey. I t had snowed on Friday and Saturday, the roads were plowed but snow-covered, my new fat-wheeled Schwinn bike held three news bags filled with Sunday morning Newark News papers and I was struggling along 20th street about 7:30 AM, not really paying attention to what was on the street, did not hear a car coming up behind me, heard a very loud beep, I swerved to the right, slammed right into the rear end of a parked car, went head over heels and landed on the trunk of the car face first.
I woke up on the sofa in the house of a family who owned the car I ran into. The driver of the car I swerved from picked me up, carried me to the front door, rang the bell, and into the house. As luck would have it, the father of the family was a doctor. Diagnosis: two chipped front teeth, one broken nose, and a mild concussion (a forgotten and the first of many concussions in my life).
What I realize now but did not then (at the age of ten) was that my seemingly good luck was not luck at all. It was one of God’s protective, loving angels sent to wrap His love around me as a comforting blanket that would guide me through life.
Russell Kendall Carter, BA. MAT. Dlitt.
Meditating to Heal 