When Life Crashes In
The classic MG moved briskly through the afternoon traffic. The drive enjoyed the quick response of the small high-powered convertible. After driving her station wagon, this little red car was rather like taking off her boots and putting on sneakers. Driving along with the wind in her hair, she tried to look casual and at ease, but inside she was a bit tense since she didn’t often drive this car – her husband’s pride and joy.
She saw only a blur of color out of the corner of her eye. Before she could consciously consider her actions, she swerved to miss the small boy on the bicycle and veered into the side of a large gray pickup truck. The car stopped with a deafening “ker-thunk.” For a second there was the tinkle of falling glass, then all was very still for what seemed like a long time. “Hey, lady. You OK?” Strong arms lifted her from the vehicle and helped her to the curb. “I’m fine,” she said, “just let me sit here for a moment.”
All she could think was, “I’m fine now, but Jim’s going to kill me when I get home.” As she waited for the police to arrive, she recalled how excited he was when he found this car. He had wanted one ever since he was a boy. This one was a rare treasure, and he had spent countless Saturday s fixing and polishing it. He knew every bolt and spot of chrome. It wasn’t really his wrath she feared—he was actually a gentle and loving husband. But she dreaded the hurt and anguish she would see in his face when he heard the news. That, for her, would be worse than if he were to get angry and yell. “Thank God, I’m not hurt,” she thought, “but I sure am worried about telling Jim.”
Her head was bent down and she saw the highly polished boots stop at her feet, “May I see your driver’s license and
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