I can never quite get over the kindness of strangers in the
most awkward of circumstances.
We were particularly reminded of this only last night when
Dearly Beloved rounded a very tight bend only to meet two cars which our side of the white
line and heading towards us. He swerved but got caught on the edge of the road
and drove in to the ditch. It was truly frightening experience. Being a
passenger, I was on the side of the car that was closer to the ditch and got a
very close andfar too intimate view of the grass and mud that now covers our car.
I screamed as we slowly bumped to a halt, and we lay, dazed,
on our sides for a while. But in front and behind us, other drivers were
stopping, putting on their hazard lights and rushing to help us. They talked to
us, switiching to English rapidly, checking that we were not hurt, and we said we would be alright - we had road
side assistance insurance and neither of us needed an ambulance. They went on
at our request.
Again, someone stopped while Dearly B was trying to call the
number given on the insurance card. This card does not, incidentally, show up
well at night in thick fog in the middle of farmland with no street lighting.
This Samaritan said he would wait until we were sure we would get assistance; otherwise,
he would call his own insurance company to come and help us out. Once reassured,
he went on his way.
I managed to get out of the car, none too elegantly, by
treating my side door as a floor and the driver’s door as a hatch. People
continued to slow down as they went past, and called out to see if they could help.
We stood some way behind the car on a rough patch of ground between the fields
and waved reassuringly at the passers by who all slowed down; some called out,
and one lady drove off the road to see if she could do anything for us. In all
about 30 people must have cared for our safety that evening.
We also realised that we did not know anyone immediately
local. We were also in a strange, middle of the fields place that only locals
would know. Many of our friends and contacts would not be able to get there
without us giving instructions. Shocked as we were, we were not particularly
coherent. We called a practical chap who we thought would be at the meeting we had set out for, and
therefore nearer than he would usually have been…but he was in Provence Provence
is odd of course…it’s just that it is not near enough to be of any use to someone
in the middle of a field in Luxembourg
A young fireman in his jeep pulled over to see how things
were.
“Yes,” he said “This
bend is legendary. Too many people come round it too fast and they end up in
the field over there.”
Our hostess called to check and offered to stay on the phone
until help came. If I had been on my own, this would have been very welcome,
but DB was there and we were managing - but what a kind and lovely thought. DB
called our Heroic Chaplain to see if he could come and take me home, out of the
cold. He arrived within half an hour, just in front of the recovery truck. He
had brought a warm blanket and I snuggled up in the car, defrosting, while he offered prayerful assistance to DB
and the Truck Man, who were working out how best to get a car out of ditch without
wrenching it apart.
In the end, they all leant on the car to balance it better
so that DB could reverse it out of the ditch ready to be loaded on to the
truck. So, our Heroic Chaplain was in good time to give us both a lift home and
to join us for tea and toast, while the poor battered car was taken off.
Next day, DB needed to fill in the Insurance forms - challenging
enough, but in French, they are somewhat overwhelming. Luckily, a secretary at
the office took it in hand. We had numerous phone calls and texts from church friends
and work colleagues. Physically we are ok, if a little strained in places, and we
did not sleep very well.
So, my conclusion for today is, that even when one does
something really rather daft, people are still kind and helpful, compassionate
and practical. Isn’t that wonderful?
Addi.
