It was a miracle and that there was no other way to explain it. My mother had come to me days before to tell me of a dream she'd had where my son had crashed into a peach-colored building and lived to tell about it.

When I first heard the dream I dismissed it. But then I decided to pray that no one would be hurt if the accident did happen.

A few days later my son came home late at night with blood all over his shirt. Three cars filled with teens had been "playing chicken" on a country road and one of the cars had crashed into probably the only peach-colored building I know about, an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere.

Several of the kids were hurt in the accident but all recovered. The blood on my son's shirt was that of the kids he tried to get out of the crashed car before the ambulances got there.

I've often thought back to that day so many years ago and wondered what would have happened had I not prayed for the kids' safety. I don't know why prayer works. All I know is that it does.

© 2007 G. Olmari. Original for CCF  (Olmari grants CCF  first electronic rights for one month; CCF may archive the material indefinitely and include it in an eBook anthology).