We were cruising down the dusty dirt road, swerving and bouncing over potholes. All of us were laughing and talking, our early Thanksgiving dinner still heavy in our stomachs. I was sitting right behind the driver’s seat, playing music on our laptop while discussing various bands and singers with my parents and sister.
I heard my mom yell and I clutched the computer as my dad slammed on the brakes. The sound of our car horn filled my ears as we skidded forward, our wheels locked. I looked up through the windshield to see a pair of t-shirt clad shoulders smash into the glass with a dull, heart-stopping crunch. The man’s head cracked into the already smashed glass as his bicycle flipped under the car.
My dad leapt out of the now stopped car and ran over to the man, who leapt to his feet and immediately started demanding money. The rest of us in the car breathed a sigh of relief and thanked God for his amazing grace.
My dad took the man to the police station, where there was much argumentation over what really happened. The man seemed convinced that we had tried to kill him. One of the police officers said, “If that man had wanted to kill you, he would have killed you properly!”As it turns out, he got away with a large bruise and a scratch.
His bicycle and our windshield were not so lucky.