Isn’t it great to feel alive – I mean, really feel it?

A few years ago a friend was in a serious car accident. It was a miracle that he survived. That’s when it’s great to have friends – they prayed like Carmelites and he pulled through!!!

When he walked out of the hospital six months later the head doctor smiled and said;

“Yes, Mr. Smith, I think only God in Heaven knows how you survived.”

But that wasn’t enough for my friend. He loved to run. He had been as fit as a fiddle before the accident.

“If you hadn’t been so fit you wouldn’t have survived either,” the doctor had also said.

So his goal – after being at home with family, after crying with his wife and children, and after thanking God for the little things – was to run in his hometown’s mountains. And he did.

It took him over a year, and by the time the next Spring came around, and the first snows were melting he ventured out alone. It was the being alone that he was afraid of; the fear of collapsing out somewhere in the hills after all he’d been through.

But he did it. And when he ran, slowly at first, but then with more pace, his heart was beating like a big drum. He could feel the blood pumping through him, and as he turned his favourite corner – over looking his favourite view – he cried out: “I’m alive! I’m alive! Praise You Holy Trinity – I’m ALIIIIIIIIIVE!”

“Oh, look Mum”, he then heard, “It’s Mr. Smith. He’s alive.”

It was his neighbours out for a walk!

He smiled. They smiled. And then they all laughed.

It was then that he realised: Being fit is a gain; and it’s good to be fit again – but being alive is even more wonderful!

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