Saved By An Angel
From James Donahue’s Journal
While serving as Sunday School Superintendent at Sandusky Baptist Church, there was one Sunday in mid-winter when a fierce winter storm developed during the two hours that we were in church participating in first Sunday school and then morning worship. By the time church was out, the storm was a blizzard.
The country roads were already stacked high with plowed snow so everyone that lived in the country knew they were in for a hard drive to get home. We weren’t too worried because our house was just a mile off the main highway, and we could walk that distance if the side roads were blown shut. But there was one small problem that confronted me that day. We had a little boy who was dropped off for Sunday school by his parents, and they were not at church to pick him up. He lived deep in the township, and it appeared that the parents were unable to get through the drifted roads.
I determined that it was my job to try to take him home. We were driving a heavy front-wheel drive Oldsmobile then and I thought it possible that the car might make it. Doris and the children waited at the church while I drove west to the road where this boy lived. The storm was blowing hard out of the west so the North and South roads were getting the impact of the drifting snow. And that was where this boy lived. I started down his road and began hitting deep drifts. But the car seemed to be gaining headway, and once I started my trek, I knew there was no turning around without getting mired in the snow, so I kept going.
We got about a mile down that road before I hit a very deep bank of snow that stopped the car. There we were, stuck in a snowbank. I had a shovel with me and was trying to dig the car out of the snowbank but thinking I was in big trouble. I prayed for help.
That prayer was almost instantly answered. Suddenly, out of the blinding storm, came the roar of a snowmobile. On the machine was a person wrapped in a winter snow suit that covered him from head to foot. He had a ski mask so I could not even see his face. He pulled up to my mired car and yelled….”I think you need some help.” He then jumped off his machine, grabbed a large shovel he was carrying on the back of it, quickly shoveled my car out of the snow, helped me get the car turned around and headed back to the highway, then took my charge aboard his machine.
I said I thought it was my responsibility to see that the boy got home safely. The man assured me that he knew the boy’s family and would make sure he arrived home safely. Then he was off in the storm. I found that the tracks I made in the snow were still visible and followed them back to the highway.
That was the most dramatic answer to prayer I have ever experienced. To this day I have no idea who the person was that came to our aid that cold winter day.
From James Donahue’s Journal
While serving as Sunday School Superintendent at Sandusky Baptist Church, there was one Sunday in mid-winter when a fierce winter storm developed during the two hours that we were in church participating in first Sunday school and then morning worship. By the time church was out, the storm was a blizzard.
The country roads were already stacked high with plowed snow so everyone that lived in the country knew they were in for a hard drive to get home. We weren’t too worried because our house was just a mile off the main highway, and we could walk that distance if the side roads were blown shut. But there was one small problem that confronted me that day. We had a little boy who was dropped off for Sunday school by his parents, and they were not at church to pick him up. He lived deep in the township, and it appeared that the parents were unable to get through the drifted roads.
I determined that it was my job to try to take him home. We were driving a heavy front-wheel drive Oldsmobile then and I thought it possible that the car might make it. Doris and the children waited at the church while I drove west to the road where this boy lived. The storm was blowing hard out of the west so the North and South roads were getting the impact of the drifting snow. And that was where this boy lived. I started down his road and began hitting deep drifts. But the car seemed to be gaining headway, and once I started my trek, I knew there was no turning around without getting mired in the snow, so I kept going.
We got about a mile down that road before I hit a very deep bank of snow that stopped the car. There we were, stuck in a snowbank. I had a shovel with me and was trying to dig the car out of the snowbank but thinking I was in big trouble. I prayed for help.
That prayer was almost instantly answered. Suddenly, out of the blinding storm, came the roar of a snowmobile. On the machine was a person wrapped in a winter snow suit that covered him from head to foot. He had a ski mask so I could not even see his face. He pulled up to my mired car and yelled….”I think you need some help.” He then jumped off his machine, grabbed a large shovel he was carrying on the back of it, quickly shoveled my car out of the snow, helped me get the car turned around and headed back to the highway, then took my charge aboard his machine.
I said I thought it was my responsibility to see that the boy got home safely. The man assured me that he knew the boy’s family and would make sure he arrived home safely. Then he was off in the storm. I found that the tracks I made in the snow were still visible and followed them back to the highway.
That was the most dramatic answer to prayer I have ever experienced. To this day I have no idea who the person was that came to our aid that cold winter day.