This is the 13th post in a series written by Frieda, my mother. These are her memories of Sara her first rambunctious child and their adventures on the mission field. Click this link to start at the beginning.
Our fourth child was born when Sara was eight years old. A day or two after I came home from the hospital, a young lady who was helping us took the three older children for a walk so I could get some rest.
From the time Sara could walk, I had worried that she would dart out in front of a car since she moved first and thought later, if at all. On this occasion, the young lady told Sara, who was too impatient to walk at a reasonable pace, that she could run ahead, but to stop at the curb. Sara came to a small street in the residential neighborhood, and decided to disobey. She says she looked both ways, and there was only a bicycle coming, which she knew she could beat across the street. She started to run across, but stumbled in the middle of the street. There were a man and a large woman on the bicycle. The man evidently saw Sara, but also thought she would be safely out of his way. When she fell, he threw on the brakes, but skidded into her neck!
I don’t want to think what would have happened if he had run over it! I knew her neck was very sore for a few days, but we didn’t realize how badly she was hurt or we would have taken her to a doctor. Actually, her neck has given her trouble to some extent all her life. One good thing came of the accident—we never again had to worry about Sara running out in the street.