A Miracle of the Many

Joel - Hudsonville, Michigan
Entered on January 25, 2009
Age Group: Under 18
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Amidst a series of grumbles and profanities, my dad pulled the car over. It was early May of 2007, and my dad was leaving for Switzerland to work for a month. We were taking him to the airport and were terribly late, when the unfortunate happened.

My dad and I, flustered, climbed out of the car and headed back to the trunk to get out the spare tire. Two bulky suitcases, a backpack, and three strained muscles later, we managed to get down to the bottom of the trunk and lugged out the replacement. We got ready to take off the ruptured tire, when all of the sudden we realized there was no tire iron to change it with. A string of more grumbles came from my dad’s mouth. With a spare tire out of the question, my dad grabbed his cell phone to call a tow truck. No service. I glanced around the highway, and it was inconveniently empty, not a car within sight. With no tire iron and no service, it was up to me to walk along the shoulder of the desolate freeway, find the nearest gas station, and place a collect call. I grudgingly started on my long walk, aware that the nearest exit was about 2 miles away. I hadn’t made it 20 feet, when I saw something brown lying in the ditch. Curious, I quickened my pace and went over to it. Instantly shivers raced up and down my spine, my hair stood on end: a rusty tire iron.

I believe in miracles. Not things happening by pure coincidence, but full on, sent from above miracles. Although miracles can be events such as people being cured of cancer, babies being rescued from burning houses, or Sanjaya Malakar advancing so far on American Idol, the ones that are most commonly overlooked are small. A rusty tire iron, somehow passing the test that you did not study for, or someone smiling at you on a rough day. The overlooked ones are, to me, the most powerful miracles. These are the ones that truly show how intricate and unending God’s love is. There is much speculation as to whether there is a God, and if there is one whether or not he provides for us. Ever since that May afternoon, I can answer both of those questions confidently.