Proof The Bible Is True

Our school bus skidded, the tires losing their grip on the slippery river road. My heart raced. All I could think was, I’m too young to die!

 

I clutched the edge of my seat. The narrow road wound along a steep slope, dicey even under normal conditions, but this morning it was coated with a slick layer of ice. I could see the river below—a 30-foot drop. I pictured the bus somersaulting into its freezing waters, the headlines in tomorrow’s paper. Michigan Teen Dies in Icy Plunge—Never Even Made It to Prom. My devastated parents. Our whole community in mourning.

 

If it weren’t for one tiny house at the end of this dead-end road, we wouldn’t even be in this mess. But the boy who lived there had just been added to our bus route. No wonder the county hadn’t plowed or salted here. There were hardly any other houses up this way. Who would ever want to live out in the middle of nowhere?

 

The school bus fishtailed down the road and we picked up the kid. I tried not to glare at him. No one made a sound until we finally reached the turn onto the highway, the plowed, ice-free highway. I exhaled. Everybody started talking again, about the school dance, the football game, homework, pop quizzes. We were safe…for now.

 

But what about the ride back?

 

Read More: Who Saved the School Bus on the Icy Road? | Guideposts