It was a Monday morning like any other.
To school we went, then call mother.
It was cold, the wind gave us a chill.
The road sure is rough as we go down the hill.
The sky was blue and kind of gray,
God had plans for us that fateful day.
Caydi’s in the back all buckled and secure,
The pothole was deep and really obscure.
There was a jolt, the truck began to slide,
No time to adjust, the truck I could not guide.
We screamed, a thud, then over the hill,
Is God watching over us, is this His will?
Baylee move your seat, Caydi said with a shout.
My legs are pinned and I cannot get out.
She wiggled and squirmed and finally got free.
What shall I do, we need help my sister and me.
Up the hill the nine year old crawled,
Which way do I go and then she recalled.
To school was I going, down is the way.
Sister is hurting, run fast do not delay.
God provided, to her legs He gave strength,
She ran and she ran almost a mile in length.
A lady was seen and still gasping for air,
My sister’s in a wreck, way back up there.
What’s you name little girl, Caydi she said.
“Let me help you”, but I need to call mommy instead.
It was not long before daddy arrived.
The truck he could see, how could any survive.
In an instant her daddy was there by her side.
Lord Jesus we plead may the presence abide.
The call had gone out quickly, prayers were made.
The medics and fireman were there giving aid.
A request she would make in soft tones so low.
Her Bible she wanted, where else could she go.