Nine Good Fingers

as told by our good friend Cynthia

True story:

His wife will be in labor soon with their second child. Their four year old daughter is chatting and getting into the car. "Make sure she doesn't smash her fingers in the door", he thinks. They go grocery shopping and get food they will need for the busy week ahead. Milk, eggs, chicken...things that are easy to prepare and will keep. The baby is coming and life is uncertain. No planning too far ahead. Only 'hope' is the constant in their lives, as they plan to take care of this baby that may or may not survive being born.

Back to the car, groceries into the trunk and the conversationalist into her car seat. He turns and slams the door shut...directly onto his finger. Oh deep pain running up his arm.

He has many choices. Scream. Yell. Swear. Jump up and down in pain. But he just walks around the car. Takes several very deep breathes and gets behind the steering wheel. He spread his hands out in front of him and looks. "I have nine good fingers.", he repeats to himself over and over. "Nine good fingers." Strangely enough the more he says it the less his injured finger hurts. He starts the car and heads back to his wife. She gives birth that night, and the baby thrives.