WRTG 150 Personal Narrative: Renewing and Awakening

            “Stephen has been in an accident. A bad one.”

            I remember this moment with great detail. I remember the emotions I felt. The way my stomach dropped and my teeth clenched. The uncontrollable stream of tears. The reaction of family members. The drastic mood change. The constant pleading with God. I remember it all. And I figure I always will. Not only because of what happened and the incidents that occurred or because of the foreign emotions I felt, but also because of the changes I decided to make that day in my own life.

            It was the day my brother, Stephen, was to return home from his two-year mission in Peru. If anyone has ever had missionary siblings, they understand how it feels to be reunited with their brother or sister after not having seen them for a very long time. That initial moment of seeing their face is absolutely magnificent. A simple description is overwhelming joy. Within seconds their beautiful face becomes blurred because of your uncontrollable reaction – a huge, ear to ear smile and tear filled eyes. Oh how unforgettably blissful that experience is; truly a day that will always stand out in one’s memory. I just never would have guessed the reasons that Stephen’s return would forever stand out in my mind.

            As we prepared to leave for the airport on the date of Stephen’s return, excitement ran among everyone in the house: aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, my other siblings, and my parents. We spoke of experiences we shared with Stephen in the past and talked of the future with our soon to be returned missionary. The younger cousins presented the room with the greatest enthusiasm as they danced around singing Elder Udall’s name. Amongst all the buzzing excitement something felt slightly off. And it became something I could not ignore when every so often I would glance at my mother and father and see slightly distraught expressions. I wondered what could be the matter, but figured it wasn’t something that needed to be brought up in front of the entire family.

            Finally the time came for us to head to the airport. My parents, my siblings and I all rode in one car. The drive was silent for the most part. Then, about 10 minutes in my mom turned to my dad and quietly asked, “What is going on?” He replied with, “Not yet. I’ll tell everyone at the same time. Just wait until we get there.” In that moment it became apparent to me that something had definitely gone wrong, but only my father knew about it.

Upon arriving at the airport to pick up my brother, my dad gathered everyone around. I remember feeling like we were inside our own bubble. No on else in the airport knew what was going on. And nothing else mattered. At least not to me. I listened intently as my dad made the chilling announcement: “Stephen has been in an accident. A bad one.” The mood quickly turned from great excitement to frantic fear and shock. Gasps escaped lips and tears began to well up. Everyone seemed to lean forward on their toes as a multiplicity of questions filled everyone’s mind. But it remained silent until my father went on to explain that as my brother was traveling to the mission home on his last day, his bus was hit head on by a petroleum tanker truck, drenching the bus in fuel. The survivors of the initial impact broke out a window to escape, only seconds before the bus exploded. Despite dozens of deaths, my brother emerged from the tragedy with minimal injuries. Or rather, minimal enough that he was still coming home at his scheduled time.

At this time point I remember how gracious and humble my father was as he said, “We don’t know how severe his condition will be. All we know is that he could have died. But he didn’t. It may not seem like much of a miracle. But it is. Stephen is coming back to us. Other families of passengers on that bus may not be so lucky. Pray in thanks that God protected Stephen. Ask him to know what we can do amidst this tragedy. And of course pray for the Lord’s hand to comfort those families of others in the accident.”   

As a whole, my family prayed. And after, I personally turned to prayer. I feel like all I could say was “thank you” and “please” through my tears.

After much embracing and crying, we worked on composing ourselves. Stephen’s arrival time came and passed. We had no idea what to expect. We all were waiting by the escalator. So when he came down the elevator in a wheelchair, there was no one there to receive him. I remember turning around, and there he was at the opposite end of the room all by himself. I felt sick as I saw his slight sadness from not having the welcome he expected. He struggled to rise from the wheelchair as our family walked, or rather ran, towards him. His body was covered in scabs and his hair was greased with petroleum. He also had zero possessions, except for a few things in his coat (everything burned with the bus when it exploded). I remember hugging him and feeling his loss of balance. Something was wrong with his leg. We later came to find out that he had a troubling knee infection that required four days of hospital treatment and a surgery to remove shards of glass from his knees.

            Amongst all the mixed emotions, joy and relief became most prominent  as we physically held him in our arms. Everyone was curious as to what actually happened in his accident. And with the every detail that Stephen explained to us, it became apparent that the fact he had even survived was a miracle. He was sleeping when the initial crash occurred. He woke abruptly after, knowing something had gone very wrong. The first image his eyes focused on was a man on fire walking towards him. Stephen could feel that he himslef was covered in petroleum and immediately unbuckled his seat belt, so he could move away from the flames. The person sitting next to him lay lifeless. Others unmoving as well. A severed leg lie on the ground near him. The front of the bus completely destroyed and flaming. All these things he noticed within seconds as he walked towards the back of the bus, where other survivors from the initial impact were attempting to break open one of the back windows to escape. Stephen waited patiently as the glass was finally broken and others jumped out before him. When his turn came, he jumped, slipping on a river of petroleum as he landed. He felt flesh rip open on his hands and knees. Stephen explained to us that through everything he didn’t feel the slightest bit of panic. He knew that God was with him, even recalling it as an “out of body experience.” He remembered that he felt “woken up” by the jolt of jumping out of the window. The shock of the landing allowed his control and awareness to return. The first thing he did after getting some distance from the bus was find a safe spot on the mountain where he could pray and thank Heavenly Father for sending His surrounding angels to lead him out of the accident.

             Many more details could be told of his experience, but that would be Stephen’s personal narrative and not mine. A few things happened to me that day:

Aside from a crazy accident and a flood of mixed emotions, I began reflecting on my own life. I would feel extremely unprepared to meet my God if He called me home suddenly. After having an experience that truly testified of the unpredictability of life, I gained new direction to make better decisions. I understood in that moment that I needed to become the best person that I could be. In the Missionary handbook introduction it says, “This handbook contains the basic standards of missionary service and conduct approved by the First Presidency an the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. Follow these standards. They will help you magnify your calling and protect you physically and spiritually.” My brother served with exactness and with all his heart, might, mind, and strength. The Lord protected him, sent his angels to guide him in crisis. Everyone in the front of the bus had died. Stephen was in the front of the bus.  Yet he survived. He could have easily been taken off this earth, even though he served a strong, worthy, honorable mission. I gained a testimony that it really is all up to God’s will. And God obviously still needed Stephen here on this earth for something. With this new knowledge, I began to understand God’s commandments better. And with the traumatizing feelings of almost losing my brother, I began to cherish every moment I had with my family members. The significance of this life and the relationships we have cannot be taken for granted. My testimony and faith were fortified by this experience.