I left office early because I had to attend an annual prayer meeting. On the way, I noticed a crowd on the road. But I didn’t bother to stop.
I went a little ahead and realised that a pregnant woman was in trouble. She was eight months pregnant and a biker had knocked her down on her stomach. She was crying profusely.
I hailed an auto to take her to a doctor. I was feeling very uncomfortable. How I wished there was a woman to help me. But no one volunteered.
On the way, the woman got over her shock. She refused to go to a doctor and insisted that I take her home, which was a long way away. I asked for her husband’s cell number but she told me that he had forgotten his cell phone at home that day.
And we couldn’t get through his office number. She didn’t want to call home because she didn’t want to upset her old in-laws. Finally, we managed to contact her brother-in-law who informed his parents that she was stuck some place and would be home soon.
I dropped her and returned home feeling good. I had missed my prayer meeting but it didn’t matter any more. One sunny day, a few months later, I got the message that she had given birth to a healthy baby. My prayer had been heard, although I had missed the meeting.