E.R.

“Boys, hurry up and get dressed! We need to leave in five minutes.” The words were barely shouted up the stairs when the crash came. The huge, something-terrible-has-happened crash that Moms around the world dread. Running up the stairs, Twin B. meets me in the hall yelling, “Emergency! Come quick!” I hear Twin A. screaming, and find him trapped under his dresser.

Quickly pulling the dresser off of him, I interrupt Twin B. who is trying to explain what happened.
“I was reaching for my undies…”
“We’ll talk later. We need to take care of your brother now. Run and get Daddy. Interrupt him if he’s on the phone and tell him it’s an emergency.”
Taking my other boy in my lap, I pray aloud, “God, may we know your presence right now, in this moment.”
“What’s presence?” Twin A. asks while still sobbing.
“God is with us,” I tell him, “even when we don’t notice. I’m asking God to help us notice that He is here with us right now because you’re hurt.”

Fifteen minutes later, my husband and A. were off to the E.R. to assess his injuries and get stitches for the gash on his forehead. I turn my attention to the other boy, sitting quietly on the couch.
“That was sure scary,” I began.
“Yeah.” Twin B. responds, his eyes welling up with tears. “I was just trying to get some undies. A. was sitting on the floor getting dressed and I opened the drawer to get my undies and the whole thing tipped over. I tried to grab it but I was too late.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. “I feel so sad for A.”
I took him into my arms and reassured him, “It wasn’t your fault A. got hurt. It was an accident.”
“But you always tell us to be careful,” he continued, his tears gaining momentum.
“Yes. And you will be now, won’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And Mommy and Daddy will bolt the dresser to the wall so it can’t happen again. We should have done that a long time ago. Accidents happen, B.”
His shoulders lifted. “I still feel really bad for A.”
“Me too, B.”
So off we went to the store for balloons and chocolate donuts and a box of Bamm Bamm Berry Pebbles to cheer his brother and to make ourselves feel useful.

My own tears come later, when I call the pediatrician to update her. “Ten stitches, no broken bones.”
“Thank goodness,” she says.
“I feel like such a terrible mother. How many times have I thought about bolting that dresser to the wall, but just haven’t gotten around to it?” My own tears fall freely now.
“No,” she says, “accidents happen. And we were lucky.”


“In everything give thanks; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thes. 5:18)

And so we give thanks…

For calm, quick thinking in an emergency.
For my husband, who was working from home today.
For health insurance and a good hospital nearby.
For many teachable moments with our noisy boys.
For A.’s courage at the E.R. and his relatively minor injuries.
For grace.
And, last but not least…
For chocolate donuts.