Last Friday I was about to pull out of work onto the main road. I looked right and saw a black VW pull out of the high school. I looked left and saw a white Chevy moving toward me. I waited for the traffic to clear and heard a WHUMP.
The driver of the white car turned left directly into the side of the black car, pushing it off the road into a stop sign and a guardrail. It seemed minor and for a moment I considered just going on home. But I knew that wasn’t right. So I got out and went to check on the drivers.
Everyone was, indeed, just fine. We called 911, got the police on their way and waited. And I have never, in my life, encountered two nicer people who have been in a car wreck. The lady in the white car apologized repeatedly to the girl in the black car who kept reassuring her that it was “all right.”
And then the girl’s parents arrived and they, too, were unfailingly kind to the woman who hit their daughter. Statements were taken, the scene was processed, and one by one we all got to go home. As we left, everyone hugged each other and said how nice it was to meet one another “under the circumstances.”
And that, my friends, is how I think the world is supposed to work. This was not a good situation. Damage was done, people were inconvenienced and it will take time to sort everything out. But instead of fretting about the difficulties, everyone focused on the fact that no one was hurt, that it could have been much worse. Love and thanksgiving were the prevailing feelings.
I’ve never been part of a nicer car accident.