Sometimes the unexpected comes along in ways that reset your default thought processes. It happened just outside the airport in Springfield, Missouri. My flight had just landed, I had picked up my compact rental car, and had turned on my cell phone to find an emergency phone call from my sister regarding our mom. She was in the emergency room once again due to her ongoing battle with stage 4 kidney failure, and there I was, hundreds of miles away, unable to be of any help. I felt a deep sense of fear and anxiety just thinking about what could happen and how far away I was if Mom should take a turn for the worse.

Due to the recent snowfall, it was bitterly cold in Missouri, especially for someone used to the mild winters of Southern California. I hurriedly dumped my suitcase into the trunk of my rental car, jumped in, and got the heater going so I could warm up while I called my sister back. We talked for a few minutes, and she filled me in on Mom’s condition. I felt so helpless listening to her describe how Mom had fallen, how her caregiver had found her that morning, and how she had been taken by ambulance to the hospital. Her condition wasn’t life-threatening, but it was serious. My sister was once again handling the medical decisions on her own because my job required me to travel out of state, which often seemed to coincide with Mom’s emergency room visits. She wasn’t happy about that, either.

After entering my destination into the GPS app on my cell phone, I set off for my co-worker’s home. She had invited me for dinner that evening since she lived close to my client location, and I had been looking forward to a nice home-cooked meal and a visit with friends. While I drove, my sister continued to describe what needed to be done for Mom and what the doctors were telling her about her condition. As I concentrated on these important details, I failed to pay attention to the roads and, before I realized it, I had turned down a farm road, my compact rental car up to its hubcaps in snow! I told my sister I needed to hang up but that I would call her back.

Jumping out of the car, I was horrified to discover I was well and truly stuck, with no way to go forward or back out. On top of that, the sun was rapidly sinking, and the only building in sight was a farmhouse in the far distance across fallow cornfields the size of several football fields.

After calling the rental car company, which promised to send a tow truck to help, I called my sister back. She was commiserating with me about my situation when I saw a set of large headlights in my rearview mirror. “I’ve got to go. The tow truck is here,” I told my sister. I hung up and got out of the car.

It was, however, not a tow truck. It was a large red 4-wheel-drive truck that rode very high off the ground, with large headlights on a roll bar. When I saw three men get out of the cab, a shiver of fear ran through me. I was a woman alone on a dark country road, in the middle of nowhere. My heart just about stopped, and every crime show I’d ever watched ran through my mind. I thought about how I should have kept my sister on the phone until I knew I was safe. I was kicking myself for not staying in the car with the doors locked until I knew who had pulled onto that snowy road.

Until I heard a voice.

“Excuse me, ma’am. We saw your headlights from the road up there and wondered if you were okay. Not too many people go down this road this time of year.”

Instead of 3 axe murderers or 3 serial killers, before me stood 3 teenage boys with concern in their eyes, all of them eager to help.

The driver, who looked all of 17, said, “Hey, I picked up a chain off the side of the road the other day. I’ll bet that could pull your car out.” And he sprinted to the back of his pickup. The other two circled my little rental car and said, “This car isn’t very big. Bet we could pick it up and pull it out of that snowbank. What do you think?” (The chain wasn’t in the bed of the truck after all). They bounced the hood a bit, gave it a shove, and said it wasn’t very heavy.

Sure enough, they asked me to get in the car, start it, put it in reverse, and when they said “go,” they wanted me to step on it! The three of them lifted the car enough to release it from the icy snow and edged it onto the road so that I could back out onto the pavement. They hooted and cheered like they’d won the Super Bowl!

As the driver of the pickup drove down into the cornfield to turn his truck around (and do a few donuts for good measure!), I looked at one of the young men standing next to me and asked him, “Are you guys angels?” With a wink and a smile, he said, “Maybe.”

With heartfelt gratitude and an enormous amount of giddy relief, I pressed some cash into their hands and told them to go get some pizza or burgers on me. “Are you sure?” they asked.

“Oh yes,” I assured them. “You saved my life.”

Then, they patiently waited until I pulled my rental car out onto the plowed pavement before speeding off down the road with several final goodbye blasts of the truck’s horn.

Thankfully, Mom received antibiotics and was safely home in just a few days. She loved the story of my snowbound adventure and even suggested that one day I should sit down with my guitar and write a song about Three Angels in a Pickup Truck.

That’s a great idea. Maybe I will.

What about you? Have you ever had an experience that was completely different from what you expected? Did you go through many emotions in one situation, feeling like you were on a roller coaster from worry to fear, then relief, and finally gratitude? Share your story.