Trauma and Drama

Today I was out digging in the flower beds and planting dianthus when a pickup truck drove in and Paul got out the passenger side. The driver turned out to be our new employee Felipe, and he was driving Paul home because Paul had just hurt his finger. It was wrapped in a blue paper-towelly thing that was turning bloody.

They had been putting a panel on Paul's truck and Paul was pushing this and trying to unstick that when it suddenly went into place and smashed his finger. (No I still can't visualize exactly how it happened.) The bottom part of the nail had popped out of the finger and I could go into more details but I won't.

Felipe had a better first-aid kit in his pickup than Paul has in the warehouse (new item on my to-do list) so they dumped peroxide on and tried to clean it up.

Paul of course carried on the traditions of a good Mennonite farmer and was making as small a deal of this as possible, but surprisingly enough he wanted to see a doctor, something Mennonite farmers are known for resisting until they turn blue or have blood bubbling out of their mouths or arms dangling by threads of skin.

Of course the local clinics were just closing up, so we went to Urgent Care in Albany. The doctor x-rayed the finger (the bone was broken this way and that but the pieces weren't separated) and cut off the looser half of the fingernail and bandaged it all up.

He is doing fine and I think I'm ok too.

Meanwhile down in Winston my lovely daughter Amy who just turned 20 today is teaching Bible school along with 4 other girls from here and staying with a sweet older lady named Elanor. The night before last they all decided to go for a walk, which Amy loves to do, at any time and in any place. Some distance down the road and around the corner a minivan passed them. It turned around and came back, and the driver asked if they need a ride. No, they did not.

After a while the van came back and the driver, whom Amy described as weird and smoking a cigarette, got out and told them they should be careful because there are some strange people around there. Then he left, but in all he drove by them five times.

Well, this gave them a proper dose of the chills, but then when they turned the corner to go back to Elanor's here they saw what looked like the contents of someone's wallet beside the road--credit cards and a drivers license. And the picture on the license looked like the man that had passed them.

They went home and locked the doors and Amy called Paul. He advised her to leave it til the next day, and then if the stuff was still beside the road, to take it to the police station. So that's what she did. Only a secretary was there at the time, so it was arranged that Amy would come back early this morning to talk to an officer.

So she did, and found out the guy was a registered sex offender and the police are keeping an eye on him because they suspect he's preying on women again. "But are you sure the guy on the license is the same guy that passed you?" I said.
Amy said, "Yes, because they asked me what he was driving, and I never notice cars, but I noticed this one because it was like the one we used to have so I was like, 'It was a brown Ford Aerostar" and they were like, "Yeah, that's what he drives."

Well, praise God for angels and praying moms and all kinds of other mercies. This is one of those situations where I have to deliberately rein in my imagination and take every thought captive or I could just completely, utterly freak out.

Quote of the Day:
"That's so cool that you get to help fight crime!"
--Jenny, to Amy

P.S. Hmmm.....Interesting that Amy had written on her Xanga, "I am headed off on my next adventure, heading a posse of girls to restore justice in the small town of Winston." Little did she realize. . .