A friend said this to me the other day. Even though I have no religious belief I thought it was a lovely expression.
She was telling me a story about her return journey from Dublin. She had left very late and as she traveled home she was oblivious to the dwindling supply of petrol in her tank.
When she was about 50 km outside Cork the light came on.
The Cork to Dublin road is now a motorway. Gone are the days when you passed through small towns and there were petrol stations everywhere. She wondered for a moment should she drive off it into a town? But it was nearly midnight, so chances were the petrol stations would be closed and she would just use up the petrol she had.
She decided to keep driving. She had no doubt that she would not make it home, but hoped to be nearer Cork when she would have to ring her husband.
The minutes ticked by. She did her best not to look at the gauge, now well below the red. The miles passed by and eventually she hit Cork. The car was still going!
About five minutes from home it stopped. Her heart sank but at least it wasn’t too far away. She tried the engine and couldn’t believe it when it began again. She drove on and finally hit the very steep hill to her house. The car made it without hesitation and in she drove to her driveway.
The following morning when her husband went out to try the car, there wasn’t a kick out of it. In her own words “That car should have stopped miles earlier. I’m telling you Tric, an angel brought me home that night”.
Her story and the idea that some other force was at work got me thinking. There were certainly times in my life which I cannot explain. Times I was in the right place at the right time.
One such a time was when I was nursing. I was due to go home but decided to go to the staff room first. I wandered back up the corridor. Around the corner out of sight I saw a gentleman lying on the floor. He was one of our patients, all dressed ready to go home.
I realized quite quickly he had had a cardiac arrest and began CPR. The team were alerted and managed to restart his heart. His family arrived to the distressing sight of him being resuscitated on the corridor.
Eventually he was stabilized and transferred to coronary care. He subsequently made a good recovery and came to thank me before he was discharged.
I have often wondered what made me walk back up that corridor that day.
Was it luck?
Was it fate?
Or maybe, if I were to believe my friend, an angel led me there.