Call It What You Want...

It's hardly news because it's a week old, and several of you already have received emails about this, but I just might be able to sit here and write about it without bawling the whole time (likely story, hormones and the rest of the day considered)... But here's an update for those who are keeping up, and a prayer request for those who haven't heard.

Last Thursday evening, my small friend Nettie was hit by a car in front of her house in Cicero. This is a lively, bright, impulsive little 7-year-old whose parents are co-workers of mine at the Prairie, the same little girl who, one evening when her daddy was trying to get some work done at the '86 farmhouse, appeared without her pants. "Where are your pants?" Daddy asked. "I don't know," Nettie (who was 4 at the time) replied. "I buried them." She seemed rather pleased with herself. "Where did you bury them?" There was perhaps a moment's pause, and then a definite answer. "I don't know." It was a good portion of the year later when another historical interpreter found, near the bottom of the compost pile, the formerly new butterfly pants.

A week after the accident -- which seems to have occurred when she darted out into the street in front of a driver who had no chance to avoid her, and seems to have been going the posted speed limit even -- this wild and willful little girl is still hanging on in a show of stubbornness clearly inherited from both parents. Auntie Ericka reports no fewer than 11 IV bags, a bank of computers and monitors that dwarfs this little girl, and perhaps two or three square inches where she can be touched that aren't covered with something or another. Other details get me a little too choked up to dwell on, but even Ericka -- not known for her deep sentimental or soppy nature (*unlike me) -- goes home from seeing her each evening crying.

It'll be a long road for Nettie and her family. Right now she remains in pediatric critical care in a hospital with a marvelous reputation for treating head trauma. Mommy and Daddy are able to spend the night either in the ICU or a nearby lounge, while grandparents and family are looking after little sisters. My co-workers have already covered a sign-up sheet to bring meals for the family, are taking care of the garden, and have donated a good deal of money for the family's expenses at this time. 

Most importantly, the number of prayers for this little girl must be in the zillions. But if you have a moment to add yours, it would be much appreciated.