THOSE AWAKE... 

By Tessa Harvey

A strong feminine voice soared over the cries and panic.

    "Friends," she cried, "let us all calm down. As the crew have advised, put your oxygen masks on first, then onto your children. For the moment, we are safe." Her voice was confident and full of power.

"It is time to pray. Whether you believe in God or not, could we ask God to keep us safe, to land perfectly wherever the pilot is able. Pray for his control. Pray for the children. Let them see Your peace and calm. Father God, our times are in Your hands."

    Gray looked around. The panic had died down. People were responding to the cabin crew, no longer solely focused on themselves. Even the children were calmer. Baby bottles were handed to screaming infants and some young mothers even discretely and calmly nursed their infants.

    The plane banked lower. Gray caught a glimpse of the sea and fear began to grip him, but then he saw land and the lights of an aerodrome.

    Emergency vehicles were lined up everywhere near the runway. Everyone held still, breathless, waiting, hoping, praying.

    There were a few faint moans. The wing flames still flared ominously, but as the plane lurched to land, fire crews raced beside the plane, dousing the flames.

    People cheered the pilot loudly. Grayson alone sought out the person who had prayed. She was a quiet looking elderly lady with beautiful eyes. "Thank you," he said, with heartfelt words which sounded gruff even to his own ears.

"How come you have faith?" "Jesus," came the answer, "but young man, faith is a struggle for us all. Sometimes help seems far away, but it does come when needed. God cares."

    They left the plane, both with gratitude.