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Lest We Forget  by Gail Gupton

There was a time when Jesus was tempted to believe in a separation from God. The carnal mind wants us to think we have the power, but Jesus clearly proclaimed, "I can of mine own self do nothing; the Father within; he doeth the work."

Ever since before Thanksgiving I've been 'sick' and can't seem to come to the realization of knowing the Truth for myself. Friends and family are concerned that I can't 'shake' this seeming condition of a separation from God. After all, God is being my life so how can anything be askew?

So, instead of writing an inspirational newsletter I think I'll tell you a story:

During the recent Christmas holiday I had the privilege of visiting with my old school principle from the 4th grade through the 12th. He asked if I ever had any repercussions from the incident I experienced at 10 years old. The answer I gave him was "NO".

In May 1955, toward the end of that school year, I had been playing at the park after school. I was walking on top of the parallel bars when I slipped and fell to the ground. I dislocated my shoulder blade so I stayed home from school the next day. That afternoon my father had to drive to another town about 15 miles away to pick up some insecticide and asked if I’d like to ride with him. I said “OK”. He took the old red truck.

On the way back, along a two-lane road, the front wheel came off and we veered into the oncoming lane and were hit head-on by another car. Of course, seat belts were not invented then. My head hit the windshield and the impact threw me out the side window. Then the truck turned over and pinned me underneath. Insecticide bags burst open and spilled all over my body. People stopped to help lift the truck from on top of me and then the gas tank exploded and caught fire. I remember it vividly, even though I couldn’t open my eyes from the insecticide that covered me from head to toe. I felt the heat of the flames.

A woman put my head in her lap and spoke softly to me. The ambulance came and I was aware of the sirens. I was rushed into the Hospital Emergency room and into X-ray while my eyes were still closed. A nurse then came in and began sponging me, cutting away my bloodied green and white striped t-shirt. To this day, when I think about it, I can still taste and smell the insecticide that was in my mouth and nose.

I lived in a small town with a small hospital. They had no pediatric room for me so I was put into the maternity ward, first bed on the right side after entering the room. Blood in my hair was starting to dry and they had a hard time combing it out, pulling knots and mats for what seemed like hours.

I was diagnosed with having a crushed pelvis, a fractured scull, a broken right wrist, and flesh was ripped from my right arm and legs. I wasn’t expected to live through the night. But I did; and then the doctor wanted to have me transferred to a larger farther-away for additional medical care. My mother said it wouldn’t be necessary. She had refused to even look at the x-rays. Instead, she immediately called for spiritual help.

I had lost a lot of blood and I was given blood plasma. But no bones were set, no casts put on, and no medication was given. They taped a board down to my right arm so my wrist would remain still and being right-handed I couldn’t use it much during that time. I remember every person from my fifth grade class coming to see me, bringing me hand-made get-well cards and puzzles and books. Even the manager of the school cafeteria brought me chocolate chip cookies and home-made brownies. Amazingly, I never felt pain during this entire time.

I went home only eleven days later and it wasn’t until much later that I learned I wasn’t expected to go home for at least 6 months. I went home in an ambulance. I didn’t want to be confined to my small bedroom, so my parents allowed me to camp out in the living room on our green futon sofa which opened up to accommodate me. So here I was with my father who was recovering himself, from a fractured hip. We must have made a good laughable team. When I had to go to the restroom, I slid myself onto a hassock which they had put onto a throw rug. We had hardwood floors, so my dad would pick up one end of the rug and drag me and the hassock at the other end down the hall to the bathroom door where I would slide myself to the toilet.

My friends came to see me after school and a visiting teacher for the county brought my school work so I wouldn’t get behind. My mother rented a wheel chair in hopes I could get around a little bit better.

There are two things that really stand out to me during this time. We had a jalousie room by the front door and about a 90 degree angle from the living room. I wheeled myself out and stopped on the stoop, short of the five marble steps that went down onto the lawn. It was peaceful. A wasp came along and landed on my left hand. I couldn’t get up. I intentionally stayed very still. The wasp walked along my arm, across my shoulder, down the right arm, looked around and flew away. I thought to myself, it doesn’t want to hurt me and I immediately saw my arm as just a landing spot. My arm was no different than a tree branch to it. It had no need to defend himself because it felt no threat.

The second thing that remains with me is when my mother wheeled me out to the clothes line where she was hanging some laundry. Three peach trees were right behind me and the peaches were ripe in the May heat.  I wanted some, so I pulled myself out of the wheel chair and cautiously walked to the closest tree. This was only about 10 days after I had gotten home from the hospital. Little did I know at that time I wasn’t supposed to ever walk, or if I did, one leg would be shorter than the other. My mother told me this later. I was due for a doctor’s check-up two weeks from my hospital release. I walked into the doctor’s office. He dropped his jaw in disbelief.

A week later I was back in school and playing again at the park. My teacher didn’t think she would see me for the rest of the year. My father made a bet with one of the nurses before we left the hospital. She came by to see me and found I was running around so she came back a week later and paid her debt – a milkshake for both of us! Nobody could believe it! Oh yes, I wasn’t supposed to be able to have children either, according to the doctor. I bore five.

My school principle remembered all this childhood activity and commented he had always been amazed. This was the start of my spiritual journey.

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