by Nan Keltie

Created on: April 14, 2010

Dear Father …

I remember the trauma of that week as if it was yesterday.  You were there ahead of us, preparing the way, arranging events just so.  Thank You for sparing our little ones!

It was a hot August evening in 1984, and we had plans to get up early the next day.  We would pack a picnic lunch, and go to Huntsville, Alabama to visit the Space and Rocket Center.  “We” consisted of hubby and I, two nephews ages 12 and 10,  and our two young children.  The kids were so excited and noisy, I had to shoo them out to the backyard while I finished supper.  Moments later, I heard a blood-curdling scream.

Every mother dreads that sound, Lord, and You gave me an unnatural strength to remain calm.  I was pregnant with our third child, but I dashed outside to pull two-year-old Jason into my arms. Nobody knew what had happened, but Jason was sobbing and trying to avoid putting weight on his right foot.    

Moments later, an odd-looking design began to show through… a dozen or more tiny red pin points in two rows running the length of his instep.  I'd never seen anything like that, Lord, and I was afraid.  Thank You that Papaw was home next door.  As soon as he examined Jason's foot, he knew what the problem was.

“He’s stepped on a stinging caterpillar."  I'd never heard of such a thing, but he explained, "Their backs are covered with sharp, poisonous barbs.”

My poor little guy!  Papaw told us to put ice on it and give him some infant pain reliever.  I’m not sure which settled him quicker - the Tylenol or being in his grandpa’s tender embrace.  

All during the night, I was up and down with our son.  His foot was feverish and swollen, and he alternated between crying and moaning  through the night.  I knew right then we'd be staying home in the morning.

When the alarm went off, I told my husband he and the boys needed to just slip out quietly and go.  When he offered to take Melissa, I told him she needed to stay behind, too, though I wasn’t quite sure why.  You were directing that decision, Lord, and it ended up saving our little girl's life.

About an hour later, I felt a little tap on my arm.  Melissa stood beside me in her pajamas, eyes bright with anticipation.  

“Is it almost time to go?”

What a difficult thing I had to do, trying to explain that Jason was too sick to go

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