F. David Shelene

This week has been a week of reflection for my family and myself. On 5/14/03 at 12:45 AM, a Ford Explorer crossed the centerline and slammed head-on into the Chevy Lumina van our son was driving. The drunken 25- year-old lady driving the Explorer was not wearing her seatbelt but was very fortunate. She is alive but had her front teeth knocked out by the steering wheel and hit the windshield. She also sustained a broken arm. Our van was torn apart like a tractor-trailer had hit it. There were parts from the engine in the rear of the van. The impact was so great, our son’s CD player had the top ripped off and the CD inside was cracked.

Sitting at home at two o’clock in the morning waiting for your son who was suppose to get off work at midnight, to come home is a parent’s worse nightmare. I had to backtrack his route to find out what happened to him because no one ever called.

It is times like these that you discover what is really important in life. Material things pale to insignificance.

We have one child. He, of course, is our life. We have lived the last 19 years for him. Now that Steve is in college, our time with him at home is almost over. We have tried every way we know how to train him for the life that is ahead of him, and he’s a good one, not perfect, but a good one. If you sent an order in for a son, he is what would come back, UPS red.

He works part time at a Pizza Hut delivering. Steve drove home one evening and told us of a homeless man who was in front of the Pizza Hut. He said, "He was one of those guys who has a sign ‘Will work for food’." Steve brought the man into Pizza Hut and paid for a meal for him. He said, "Dad, he didn’t even know how to use the salad bar. I had to show him."

That’s Steve. He would give you the shirt off of his back.

Another time when Steve was about ten years old, he came into the house from playing and went into his bedroom. At this time, Steve had some friends whose mother was fighting a losing battle with cancer. When he came out of his bedroom, he had a dollar in his hand. His mother asked him where he was going with the money. Steve said, "Joe’s." Joe was one of the children whose mother had cancer. My wife asked Steve why, and he replied, "Joe doesn’t have a bed mom. I’m going to help him buy a bed." My wife said, "I didn’t know that Steve. That’s nice of you but you can’t buy a bed with a dollar. Maybe your father and I will see what we can do." Steve answered, "You can’t buy a bed with a dollar? " When his mother answered no, Steve turned around, went back into his little bedroom, and returned with a twenty-dollar bill.

I believe it all comes around as the saying goes. Steve’s kindness came around that Wednesday night on May 14^{th 2003}. Steve’s still with us and we thank God who must have had his hand wrapped around Steve because after seeing the van, God’s grace is the only way anyone could have survived.