“Yes, you are!” said my mother handing me my jacket.
“Why do I have to go? I’m not in the choir, plus there’s nothing to do but watch them sing,” I said looking at her, confused.
“So that your sister will have someone to walk with and it’s already dark out,” she said walking towards the kitchen, “plus I have to finish preparing dinner, so there’s no way I can go with you guys.”
This was how I found my nine-year-old self walking to choir practice with my 13-year-old sister at 7:00 on a cold Friday night. If only I knew that what I would experience later on would be something we normally only see or hear about on television, I would have fought harder for us to stay home.
The Walk to Church
As we walked to church, my sister and I picked up our normal chit-chat about school, which normally means friends and teachers for me, and for her, friends, boys, favorite subjects, teachers both liked/disliked, and so on; this occurred the entire walk to our church. Though our church is not far from where we live, there was something different about that night than any other.
Choir practice was pretty routine, and eventually the choir director called it a night, just so my sister and I wouldn’t have to be out on the streets too late.
Someone Watching Us
As we walked home on the empty streets, there was this odd feeling that someone was watching us, but we didn’t see anyone around. When we finally arrived on our street and were walking past our mailbox, we noticed car headlights pulling up slowly beside us. When we turned to face the car, a man stuck his head out the window and asked, “Can I have her?” pointing towards my sister.
Feeling completely shocked at his request, we froze. As if by an impulse, I grabbed my sister by the arm, and we charged towards our front door screaming for our mother. To our surprise days later we found out that this man was a pedophile who had moved into our neighborhood. We had no idea that he was nearby.
This event not only brought my sister and me closer together, but it also proves that God is always watching over us. In the end, I was very happy I went with my sister because if I hadn’t gone, things could have gone differently; only God knows what could have happened. I believe it is only by the grace of God that many of us are still alive today.
Lester Biggs writes from the Pacific Northwest.
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