Reading the “My Turn” article by John Bos the other day and his remarks re: Le Guin made me think they both seem to be going the long way around the barn. Belief is something you have or do not have. That you can feel in every fiber of your body, that you recognize there is an all-seeing, all-knowing deity surrounding this world of ours.

I know there will be people who will shout me down, call me crazy and others prefer to believe in nothing. That’s OK; it’s your eternal soul that’s in jeopardy.

Now I’ll tell you what happened to me and you decide.

One winter we had a very bad storm, a blizzard. The Elder Day Care facility had allowed their clients to come in that morning, but by 11 o’clock had decided to get them home before they became snowed in. I was the only driver available and agreed to go. Was assigned a bus, inspected it and went off the 20 some miles to the EDC facility. Noticed it was slippery driving, but nevertheless made it to the facility. Loaded the clients, and soon after had all home but one old man, whom I had never picked up before. Trying to find the road to take him home, snowing so hard all the road signs were covered, but I had an old map. I found myself going down a slippery, bumpy road until I came to the bottom to find a cul-de-sac.

In trying to go back up that road, I could see about 100 feet of glare ice, and trying to go up I could go about 50 or 60 feet, and then I’d slide back to the bottom. Did that seven or eight times to no avail. I had visions of being found in the spring with a couple of frozen bodies and a bus. My radio failed to work and I had no options; the old man was lightly dressed, so I couldn’t get him out and walk in that mess.

Finally, I took the bus out of gear and began to pray. After several minutes, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Looking up, I could see the old man in the rear view mirror still sitting in the rear seat of the bus, but I could feel that hand. In my head I heard a voice saying, “It’s OK, now you can go.”

I put the bus in gear and drove up that mountain road that had been slippery, bumpy and potholed coming down. Going up it was like I was riding on a sheet of glass. No bumps, no slips. In fact, I’m an old pilot and it felt like I was flying. I crested the top of that hill, gave a BIG “thank you” to God, soon found the road I needed to deliver the old man, and then drove carefully back to base, GMTA garage in Greenfield. And getting out, I walked around the bus to check it, but this time I looked at the tread on the tires to see they were smooth summer tires, not even all-weather.

Somehow, the responsible person had never changed the tires for winter service. Well, thanks to a higher power, it wasn’t necessary.

Ernest LaPlante

Greenfield