My sister and I had decided earlier in the day to drive the twenty-five miles to hear Reverend Langdon preach the Word of God. We had been to several of his sermons a few months ago; we enjoyed them enough to want to hear more.

We were visiting our parents for the week and needed a night out. We left our small children on the farm with their grandparents and started out under slate gray skies. In the distance we could see darker clouds gathering strength to flood the land around us with more rain. It had rained for days with no let-up in sight. The creeks were already flooding in places and the country roads were washing out.

Being young, and without fear we drove across the soggy countryside to the large church in Lovett, Indiana. While entering the church, I could hear the storm gaining more strength. The wind had picked up causing a chill to go up my spine. I hoped the worst of it stayed away till we returned to the farm. Maybe we should have stayed at mom and daddy's. The thought fluttered through my mind as a bolt of lightening lit the clouds not so far away now.

Reverend Langdon had to be the best preacher I had heard in my life. His sermon was reaching into my soul and bringing me the most joyous of feelings.

Halfway through the service the storm worsened. I could hear the rain pounding the roof and the wind shaking the beautiful stained glass windows.

"Ella, are you enjoying the service?" I asked my younger sister.

"Yes I am, very much," she said, visibly drawing up when a bolt of lightening hit somewhere near with the thunder so loud it drowned out the preacher's voice.

"He’s a very good preacher, but by the sound of the storm outside we better head back toward home," I whispered. "I really hate to leave now; the sermon is really good and I wanted to hear the new gospel singers, but we have to go Ella—now!"

Ella and I slipped out of the church as quietly as we could, running for our car. We were soaked by the time we had the doors closed.

"I’m chilled," Ella said, shivering. "Hurry and turn on the heater."

Shaking my head at her and laughing, I put the car in gear and backed out. "Just hold your dang horses, little sister, you never did learn patience did you?"

Looking up at the sky, I was apprehensive. The night was black as a witch’s cat, with the rain coming down like heaven's gutters were full and spilling over. I said a small prayer, took a shaky breath and pulled out of the church parking lot.

Flipping on the heat and trying to keep my voice steady so as to not frighten Ella, I said, "It looks like we should've left a little sooner."

The wind was blowing much stronger now than when we arrived at the church. My arms were already beginning to ache from fighting the wheel in order to keep the car between the white lines on the blacktop.

We had traveled about six miles from the church at Lovett when I knew for sure that we were in trouble. I could barely make out the road in front of me. The wind was so strong; debris was flying all around us. The ditches were full and large pools of rainwater were quickly covering the road. The further we drove into the country, the worse it became.

"Ella, you'd better start looking for a farmhouse. We need to call Daddy and let him know we’re on our way home," I said.

I could tell my sister was frightened; she hated storms. But, this time, instead of curling up into a ball as she usually did, she began searching for a farmhouse.

"There’s a house!" Ella said. "Over there on your left—back off the road a ways. See—the lights are still on!

Oh, Lord, I hope they have a phone." She was shouting over the noise of the storm.

I was hoping the same thing. From the looks of the debris on the road, damaged trees and things, a bad storm or even a tornado had passed close to this area in the last few hours. I was surprised to see lights on in the house.

Flooding was quickly becoming a problem and I was afraid to get off the road. The driving, drenching rain and the stinging wind whipping our faces made it very difficult for us to walk after we left the protection of our car.

We gripped hands tightly, inter-locking our arms. The yard we were crossing was ankle deep in water. It was dark, all but the light that spilled from the windows and open front door of the farmhouse. Heads down, free arm raised, we turned our faces from the stinging rain. We made our way slowly across the wide expanse of yard, placing our feet very carefully.

We climbed the porch steps and stopped. The front door was open and no one was in sight.

I knocked on the door jam and called, "Is anyone home? Hello?"

Not receiving an answer, I poked my head in the door and yelled louder, "Knock! Knock! Is anyone here?"

Still not getting a response, I stepped inside the door and looked around.

Ella, following me, said, "Elsie, this is spooky. Where is everyone?"

The table had the remains of supper waiting to be cleared. The iron, still hot, was sitting on the ironing board and a radio could be heard playing in another room.

"How eerie is this?" I said. "Let's see if we can find a phone and then get out of here."

Looking around the room, I didn’t see one, so I went into the kitchen. Sure enough, hanging on the wall was a big black phone.

I picked up the receiver and put it to my ear. "Shoot! The phone lines must be down; it’s dead. Let’s get out of here. Daddy has to be worried frantic about us and I don’t want to stay here, this place gives me the creeps!"

Locking arms once again, we made our way back to the car. I hoped the folks that belonged to the house were in their storm cellar and—safe.

The next hour was so frightening. We could normally make the drive to Lovett in thirty minutes, in good weather, of course. We were creeping along at twenty miles an hour, and the going was getting worse with each mile.

Ella and I said a prayer to God to deliver us safely home and thanked him for his guidance. We started singing after leaving the farmhouse. Whenever we were scared, we always sang. It took our minds off the danger.

Our voices rose in harmony as we sang one gospel song after another. I was having trouble seeing the road that was now covered with water. I was afraid that we were going to go off the pavement and down the sloping embankment on the side of the road, which was now filled, several feet deep, with rushing water. Finally, we turned onto the road that led to my father's place. I held my breath, hoping the gravel road wasn't washed out. We still had almost two miles to go before we turned off that road onto the lane that led to the farm.

The rain had become harder in the last mile or so. Lightening was flashing all around us; the rolling thunder often drowned out our singing. And we were singing loud. All the nervousness and apprehension that we were feeling made us shout out the words.

I felt, rather than saw, the deep cut that flowed with spillover from the creek. The water was rushing under the car so fast, that I couldn't hold it on the road.

"Hang on, Ella—we're going in!"

Try as I might, I couldn't control the car. I was praying to the Lord to save us. The car slid to the right and off the road, the back tires sinking into the creek before it came to a stop. I knew we didn’t have long and needed to get out.

"Ella, get daddy’s cane off the back seat. We have to walk the rest of the way. We’ll have to get out my side of the car."

I climbed out of the car and screamed in spite of my resolve not to frighten Ella, the rushing water was suddenly up over my knees, pulling at me.

As Ella climbed out, the raging water took her off her feet. I grabbed a handful of her clothing and managed to get her upright, standing shakily on her feet.

I took daddy’s cane from her and offered her my arm. "Follow me and don’t let go. Whatever you do, don’t let go," I said, yelling over the noise of the storm.

We started toward the road with the wind blowing in our faces and the stinging rain blinding us so that we couldn’t see. I used the cane to inch us along in pain and the terrifying darkness.

Finally, back on the road, I knew that we were in trouble. We were already exhausted and still had at least a mile to go. Even though we didn't say so, we were both sure that we were going to drown right there on that old gravel road.

The rushing water, with limbs torn from trees and other flotsam, painfully battered our bare, straining legs. I was suddenly struck by something that was large enough for me to grab before it was swept away. I reached down and pulled up a branch that was long enough to help steady us better than the cane was doing. Giving Ella daddy's cane, I told her it might help with balance.

We finally came to the lane that would take us to our father’s house. I was praying so hard that I failed to see the tree falling in front of us. One of the small, outward branches hit me on the shoulder sweeping me to the ground, pulling Ella with me. I heard the tearing sound as the roots let go and the tree hit the muddy water-soaked ground with a mighty crash. Water splashed so high into the air that it seemed like a water spout had decided to drench us, pouring gallons of cold muddy water over our shivering bodies.

Our coats were so heavy from the rain we could barely get up. "Ella, take your coat off—leave it! They're too heavy! They're going to drown us!" I screamed, as I peeled my own coat off and dropped it into the rushing water.

Bracing my feet, I dragged Ella up, and helped her remove her coat. She stood weaving in shock; she was frightened almost beyond endurance. I put my arms around her and yelled, "Don’t worry, little sister. We’ll get home. I promise we will!"

Trying to see the best way around the tree was very difficult, it was dark and with only the lightening to guide us.

Taking Ella’s hand, I led her into the ditch. The water was running so fast that we lost our footing several times and were swept under the cold muddy surface. Each time we were dragged under—we were sure that our time had come.

At last we were out on the other side—only to find that we had climbed over a fence and skirted the tree to brave the ditch on the other side.

We finally made it back to the road and started down the hill. At the bottom of the hill, a small bridge normally crossed over a trickling, picturesque creek. Of course, now, it was no longer a creek, but a raging torrent. I could hear the hissing rush of the water as it moved over the bridge, taking everything in its path.

I stopped dead in my tracks. I was shivering so badly, my teeth were chattering. Ella was much worse off than I. She had always been a sickly child and hadn’t fared much better in adulthood. I didn’t know what to do; we could never cross that raging stream below us. We were exhausted from our trek from the car. I just felt like I couldn’t go on anyway; I gave up. The elements were more than I could fight.

I dropped to the ground, crying. Would I ever see my little boy or girl again? I had failed my sister. I gave myself to self-pity and loathing.

As a last resort, I began to pray.

"Oh merciful God, please take care of my children. Guide them and show them the way of your love. Please, Dear Lord, let my sister live through this. I tired to get her to safety and failed. Guide her now and walk with her. She needs your love and…"

Suddenly, Ella was pulling at me to get up. She was leaning down and screaming in my ear.

"Look Elsie, look! Look! Look!" She was so excited.

I raised my head and saw lights approaching from the other side of the bridge. Now, I could hear the distant sound of Daddy’s old John Deer tractor chugging it’s way toward us. I had never heard a sweeter sound in my whole life.

Daddy was coming for us. Somehow he knew we needed him and he was here.

Suddenly I knew who was responsible. I thanked God for seeing us through the hardest night of our lives and climbed up on the John Deer next to my dad and hugged him with all of my might.

Daddy said, laughing, "You girls need a lift?"