Inwardly Watching Over Me

A few years ago I worked in an office building in downtown Orlando, Florida. One Friday shortly before Christmas, I left work a bit early because my wife Elaine and I planned to drive to Miami that evening for a weekend. After waiting for the signal, I began walking my bicycle across the street. Suddenly a Ford Explorer coming quickly from the opposite direction turned left and hit me in the crosswalk. The bike and I both went flying ten or fifteen feet, and I landed face down on the asphalt. In an instant I jumped up, grabbed my bent, scratched glasses off the pavement and screamed, "You idiot!" at the lady who had leaped out of the SUV. She was crying and saying, "I'm so sorry" over and over. Almost immediately I felt sorry for her and guilty for not behaving properly, and I apologised for yelling at her. Someone had called an ambulance, and the paramedics checked me out. They were amazed that they couldn't find anything wrong with me beyond a black eye and assorted bruises and scrapes. When I finally got home a couple of hours late, Elaine was obviously annoyed. "Where have you been?" she asked. "Now we won't get to Miami until two in the morning!" Then she noticed my face and asked, "What happened to you?" I was ready with my best excuse ever. "I got hit by a truck," I said matter-of-factly. Then we headed for Miami. When I went to my doctor on Monday, he couldn't believe I had no serious injuries. The X-rays showed nothing at all. Outwardly, Sri Chinmoy was in Guatemala. But inwardly, he was watching over me in America.

David (Orlando)