The Miller Memoirs

LEMONADE STAND

Seven years ago I was in a serious car accident. I fell asleep while driving to Utah and rolled my car 2 1/2 times. I don't actually remember the rolling--my mind has blocked that from my memory. What I do remember is the dust billowing around the car, and my desperate fight to get to my two daughters in the back seat. As soon as I had accomplished that one objective, my adrenaline left, and I collapsed in pain. As I laid on the side of the road, looking at the totaled car, feeling pains I had never experienced--I wandered if this was it? I remember talking to my husband on the phone, laboring for breath, and begging him to hurry because I didn't know if I was going to make it. In addition to being scared for my own life, my heart was constricted with fear for my 10 month-old baby girl. She never stopped screaming--for two hours--she screamed. Her screams haunted my thoughts, and I begged for someone to do something to help her. It wasn't until life flight landed and Amber was rushed to a different part of the hospital that there was silence, and then the quiet was almost more difficult. At least with her screaming I knew she was still alive. It was the scariest experience of my life.

The weeks and months that followed were difficult; however, we were blessed to have all survived the crash. During my families' recovery, this experience went from being the scariest moment to being a sweet blessing. Something happens to our souls when we experience tragedy. Our eternal perspective becomes clearer, and the things that should matter most--become our priority. I am grateful for this experience. It has given my insight I would never have otherwise. It has also given me empathy for others and their sufferings. I hope that I will be blessed to use that empathy the way God intended.

Just recently, someone I love, fell from a Culvert and landed on her head. She underwent immediate brain surgery. There were moments where we wondered if it was her time to pass onto the other side.

 As a family, we prayed for her family, her children, and for her recovery. We begged the Father that it be His will that she remain on the Earth to raise her family. I remembered having similar thoughts for myself, and it caused my heart anguish. Anguish for her family, and for the pain she was experiencing. Anguish for the tragedy. And just like my experience offered me an eternal perspective--once again my perspective widened, and the heavens taught me more about what truly matters. And this time--I taught my children.

As a family, we discussed ways in which we could help Jamie and her family raise money for her expenses. My children suggested we do a Lemonade Stand, and so we did! I was touched by the generosity of neighbors and friends. We were blessed to have felt of their examples.  Our hearts were full as we finished our stand, and we wished we could do more. I am sad that it is through tragedy that powerful lessons are learned--Jamie's tragedy taught my children to serve and to pray for something greater than themselves. Their whole hearts and souls were focused on Jamie, and her recovery. They will never forget the love they felt through serving another in need. They will never forget that their prayers were answered, and Jamie is on her way to recovery.

 

Jake danced up and down the sidewalk yelling, "Come get your lemonade! Fitty Cents!" I wanted to record his cute little chant!