The Face of God

My heart almost stops as I take in the utter disaster before me.

Twisted metal.  Flashing lights.  Desperation.

Flames leap out of the wreckage.

A scream breaks through the noise.

A woman pulled out of the crash--

No, a mother.

She doesn't try to escape the flames;

She tries to dive back in.

She's crying, yelling one word over and over again,

Repeating a name like an anthem, a prayer.

A police officer is holding her back, looking like his job is to hold the weight of the world.

Firefighters work to put out he flames, eventually lifting the car enough to look inside.

The commotion increases.

The firefighter reaches into the burned and warped metal.

The mother cries out.

A young child--a girl.  No more than 4 years old. 

Yellow rain-jacket and pink boots.

Teddy bear in hand.

Not a single scratch.  Not a single burn.

Only blue eyes wide and calm as she reaches out for her mother.

The crowd gathered can only gasp in shock, then stand silently or cry with joy.

The mother can't even speak, only hold her daughter like she'll never let go.

Standing on that sidewalk in the face of a disaster, I saw God.