It had been 15 years since she had entered The House of Refuge, a shelter for the street children of Cincinnati. Her experience there would lure her back time and time again, if only for short visits. Sister Rose had an unforgettable impact in her young years. She proved to be her salvation, her refuge from the storm of the life she had led, her hope for tomorrow – no, not just for tomorrow, but for all the days to follow for the rest of her new life. She considered it a period of rebirth, a new beginning, and her desire now was to be able to repay Sister Rose in some way.
As she drove over the Appalachian Mountains north from Charlotte, North Carolina, back to Cincinnati, she enjoyed every minute of her trip and every aspect of the springtime beauty she beheld. Soon after she passed Max Meadows, Virginia, she came upon a spectacular view of the valley. The redbuds were in full bloom, the rhododendrons were not quite opened to their colorful splendor but the white of the mountain-laurel and the dogwood trees was nicely spread. “How great is God’s artwork!” she said aloud, as she glanced left and right. Above, she noticed that a jet had scratched the cloudless blue sky as she watched the vapor trail slowly disappear. She wished that Chris were with her to share in this beauty. “Virginia definitely is for lovers,” she smiled remembering the state motto.
Previously, she had traveled the Big Walker Mountain Scenic Byway and climbed the observation tower to lookout over the vastness of the valley. The plaque proclaimed that parts of five states; Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina, Virginia and West Virginia; could be seen due to the high elevation – almost 4,000 feet. On that particular day, she was not certain she identified all of the states. She did see the pattern of farms and fields in the valleys of Virginia and she could see the wilderness leading into West Virginia. Many times she had witnessed God’s handiwork manifested in the summer, with the trees full of green and the skies full of blue and then in the fall when the leaves were turning gold, red, and yellow among the greens and browns.
Would Chris appreciate this natural beauty when he came to join her in the fall – if he came to join her at all? She was looking forward to spending the rest of her life with this man, Chris Elliott, who accepted her unconditionally, loved her in spite of her past and the baggage that she brought into the relationship. There were just some loose ends that she needed to take care of before she could commit to “forever” with him. Thinking of them became a distraction as she traveled over Big Walker Mountain.
She was driving leisurely, thanking God for all the good now in her life, and for all she had accomplished, when suddenly she was shocked to attention by a large tire remnant from an 18-wheeler heading toward her. She tried in vain to avoid the impact, swerving first to the right and then to the left. She slammed on her brakes and was forced forward while she held on to the steering wheel, knuckles white. The tire slammed full force into the front of her little red Mustang. She and the car became airborne.
The Mustang first scraped over the guardrail then hit the top of a small tree, which threw them into a spin, and over and over in the air. She was feeling the restraint of the seatbelt pulling against her chest and waist as her head was jerked left and right with the movement of the car and was banged against the side window, then the headrest. She could see the colors of the landscape and the sky in front of her eyes; them just a kaleidoscope of swirling colors. She felt the airbag hit her hard in the chest and face. She seemed to be going higher into the air at first, then down…down… She tried to brace for impact.
The car fell with increased force, leveling small maple and ash trees and pulling some out of the earth as it continued its tumbling and sliding. Then the inevitable…. a loud crash, a lurch, and then impact against a large old oak which shook, but remained stationery amid the smaller trees and brush. She heard the sound of breaking glass and smashing of metal. She felt almost unbearable pain in her legs as the bones broke, and in her head as it smashed into the side window frame. Did she scream? If so, she didn’t hear it…silence then darkness was all that was left – quiet peacefulness. No pain. Nothing…
Dr. Aubrey Holbrook had been following the little red Mustang as he traveled the same path over the green mountains of the Appalachian range. He was listening to a novel he had picked up in preparation for his trip to his hometown, Charleston, West Virginia. He liked to catch up on his “reading” while driving. Earlier, at the truck stop in Max Meadows, he had watched a young woman with light brown, naturally sun-streaked hair cascading down her back.
As he followed her, he mused that he liked the way she walked. He appreciated the tight jeans – not too tight, just right. “Umm – nice,” he said in a whisper, to himself. With the jeans, she wore a white top that came down past her waist and was tied loosely to one side, while the other side was pulled tightly against the opposite hip. Her hair was held back to one side of her forehead, by a simple, yet pretty, gold clasp. She walked with her head down, looking mostly at the sidewalk. She entered the building and turned toward the ladies restroom. He wondered if she was as attractive looking coming as she was going. No matter, he would never see her again.
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