A lesson in gravity

Night before last, my friend, Tracey, called to see if we'd like to head up to the snow in our local mountains. The Princes loves the snow, so we made plans to head up about noon on Monday.

We caravaned with some other friends. As we made our way up the mountain, it was clear that there were lots of other people with the same idea. My friend and I smelled something burning as we drove, but her car didn't indicate a problem, so we kept on going. The Prince kept saying "I have a bad feeling about this," when he saw how many cars were heading up.

These are the cars lined up along the road.

When we got up to the area where the kids could sled, I had second thoughts. It was really crowded. I figured since we'd driven for awhile to get there we could just play it by ear.

"T" and The Prince set off and quickly put a lot of distance between us and them. They were motivated to use those snow discs.

It was a beautiful day. And I wore the WRONG shoes. Cowboy boots, to be exact. I kept slipping and sliding, and I fell farther and farther behind. The boys headed straight for an area with a very steep slope.

This is the slope.

And this? The Prince on a backboard, waiting to be loaded into the ambulance. On his first try down that hill (which I would have told him NOT to go down had I been close enough to tell him), The Prince hit a bush and went airborne. I was thinking, "He's dead." I honestly thought that. I couldn't move very fast, but a very nice man grabbed my arm and got me over to where the Prince was lying on the ground, face down. Some other strangers were asking him questions about his legs and arms and neck, and my friends (who all wore much more practical shoes for the snow) were all around him. He said his neck hurt. And then I saw the blood on the snow. The left side of his face is badly scraped, and he cut his lower lip.

I finally decided to call 9-1-1 because I was worried about his neck, and didn't want to make him walk across the slippery snow to get back to the car and go to the hospital. I had to get to a snack booth because none of our cell phones had reception up in the mountains.

I will never forget how calm Cherie was in talking to me and The Prince (and tending his wounds), and how Tracey waited for hours in the parking lot of the hospital in case we were discharged quickly and she could get us home, or how Sandy and Kellee offered their snow boots so that he wouldn't slip on the snow (when were thinking we were going to walk him to the car), and how Josiah and Tyler helped carry the backboard with the paramedics. All the kids and parents were so concerned about The Prince, and they never even got to enjoy the snow yesterday, and no one complained at all.

The Prince is feeling very self-conscious about his face. I looked at him from the time of the accident until we were discharged, but he won't let me see his face now. He is wearing his father's welding mask around the house. I'm not kidding.

I feel blessed that he wasn't badly hurt (in the scheme of things), and that so many people, strangers and friends alike, were there to help.

And that burning smell on the way up? It was the brakes on Sandy's van. They were smoking on the way down the hill, and a wonderful stranger honked and yelled and got Sandy to pull over so he could tell her! They had to sit for awhile before they could head down again, but had to pull over a second time! I'm telling ya, the day was kinda cursed.

So, rather than a warm, fuzzy Christmas post, this is what you get. Sorry 'bout that. But, I will be back with Christmas pictures soon.

FYI, I got The Prince's permission to take his picture, and to post it here. I told him he'd want to show the pictures around someday...a long time from now.

Blessings to you!