“Heavenly Father Protected Us,” Friend, Apr. 2005, inside front cover
The sign says, “Caution: Icy Bridge Deck.” It stands next to the big concrete bridge over the Athabasca River in the center of Fort McMurray, Alberta, Canada, where I live. Our city is in northern Canada, where the roads are covered with ice and snow for six months of the year and driving can be dangerous.
One day, just as we passed the warning sign, our truck started sliding out of control. My mom prayed out loud, “Heavenly Father, please help us!” Our truck spun around on the bridge until its nose banged hard into one of the gray walls. We stopped with a jerk, and I accidentally bit my tongue.
“We’re OK,” Mom said as she patted my leg. “Heavenly Father protected us. Look—it didn’t even wake Nathan (my little brother).” Although the truck had crashed, and my tongue was sore, I knew that Mom was right. Even though the bridge was slippery, the cars behind us were able to stop without bumping into us. The wall of the bridge stayed strong and kept us from falling into the frozen river. The truck’s shiny metal bumper was crumpled, but the truck still worked fine. We got home safely, just like we’d prayed that morning before we left the house.
Samuel Quist, age 5, with help from his mom, Fort McMurray, Alberta, Canada