The DeSoto

The DeSoto

I have often wondered if I came into the world with the notion that I could get through life unscathed if all I did was hold still and mind my own business. That notion was nonsense, of course, for no one can hold still and mind their own business for very long, least of all an infant. At any rate, any such notions were shattered big time when I was just a few months old and events happened that came to be known as the story of the DeSoto. Of course I was much too young to remember these events, but I have heard accounts since I was young.

My mother’s father, George, was not a wealthy man, not by any means, (he made his living working for U&I Sugar Company). But as he got older (only 2 of his 9 children left at home) he managed to save up enough money to buy a brand new car, a DeSoto. He loved that car, it was his pride and joy, and it made him a very proud man. But, as they say, pride goeth before the fall, and my mother, seeing a “fall” in the works, became very concerned. She was so concerned that she made it a matter of prayer for many weeks. As it happened, she and I went to visit them for a couple of weeks while my dad was away and her concerns were confirmed.

One morning we went for a ride in the DeSoto, taking my aunt to her job at the hospital in a nearby town. On the way back from the hospital, the sun shone on my face and I started to cry. Believing all was well on a straight stretch of road, she reached over to cover my face, lost control of the car and we rolled into a ditch. Those were the days before seat belts and infant seats and we took quite the tumble, mother cut her hands on broken glass and I broke both my legs, just above the knees. The car was without insurance and was totaled. The car was the least of anyone’s immediate concern, for all had to work together to take care of the baby girl in traction in the hospital for the next few weeks.

Naturally, my mother felt horrible about what happened. It may appear that that was a cruel way to answer her prayers. I soon forgot the trauma of the incident, my legs healed nicely and I learned to walk by age 2. I have had no problems with them since. But the DeSoto was gone.

Many years later, George, in an unusually sentimental moment, confided to my mother that the accident, losing the DeSoto, was the best thing that ever happened to him. Hindsight let him realize, too, that he had been headed for a “fall” because of his pride.

I find it very comforting to know that God hears our prayers and from His perfect knowledge knows the perfect ways to answer our pleadings. I was privileged to be a part of it then, and many times since.

.