I had been driving all night from North Carolina to get to my parents' Kentucky home for Thanksgiving dinner.
At 2:00 a.m. I noticed my fuel gauge nearing empty, but all the gas stations I passed were closed. When my car began to sputter a couple of hours later I coasted to a stop on the shoulder of the dark, deserted highway. Now what?
Opening my door, I heard a woman's voice: "Help me." Grabbing a flashlight from the glove compartment I walked toward the guardrail.
Twenty feet down was a mangled car, overturned in a ditch. I ran down the hill and found the woman pinned under the car. "Don't worry," I said. "I won't leave you here."
When I heard the rumble of a tractor trailer I raced to flag it down. The trucker called for help on his CB, and we used my jack to lift the car off the woman. After the rescue squad came, the trucker helped me fill my gas tank.
I made it home in time for our turkey dinner. When I found out that the woman was recovering well, I said a heartfelt prayer of thanksgiving. I'd been put in the right place at the right time.
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