I SHOULD BE DEAD!

     It all began when I was only five years old. My mother and father took me on a picnic by Goose Pond in Chester Park. It was a comfortable July afternoon, with not a cloud in the sky. Well, I don't know what the forecast was that day, but we were there only an hour when clouds started rolling in. My mother told my father that it looked liked rain, but my father, stubborn policeman that he was, said not to worry, and that we wouldn't have to leave the park until it started to rain. We left a little while later, but it sure wasn't because of rain.

     I was standing by the edge of the pond looking for toads when BAM! right out of the sky and with no warning came a lightning bolt that zapped me senseless. I may have fainted for a while, because the next thing I can remember is my parents standing over me, all panicked. But, surprise! I was practically unhurt! Only the tips of my hair were burnt, and my nerves were a little shaky. We went to go see Dr. Anderson, and he said that everything was fine. Were my parents relieved!

     But, like I said, that was not the last of it. I got struck by lightning five more times before I even got out of public school. By the time I was a senior, everyone knew who I was, and even my friends gave me a lot of room whenever storm clouds rolled in.

     Then there was the time, after highschool, that I went to go live with my Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen in Putnam (my parents weren't really getting along at the time, and they wanted to save me the stress for a couple of months). So I lived with my aunt and uncle and helped them dig wells for a while. Actually, my uncle dug the wells, but my aunt and I took care of all the business aspects. We Conway women were always a whiz at math! Anyway, I met some friends there in Putnam, and it was the first time in forever that no one knew about my "lightning habit."

     Later that summer, the town planned a celebration with games and a bandstand and all the other little goodies of a small-town festival. That day I met a boy by the name of Naven Gance. After sharing cotton candy and playing the dunk tank and taking part in other such fun and games, well, I guess we grew rather fond of each other. When the town band struck up at sunset, we danced together until our legs couldn't hold us up any longer. So we snuck away to a secluded spot behind the food vendors.

     It's too bad what happened, because maybe Naven would have been my one true love (although I tell my husband Dwight the opposite). But there we were, happy as jay birds, when once again a big old bolt of lightning crashed down on me. Once again, though, I wasn't hurt. I sometimes think God knew I'd have this problem, and maybe he gave me a special protection from electricity, but poor Naven wasn't so lucky. He got minor burns all down his arms and chest, and his suit coat was blasted apart like it had exploded from the inside! I've got to tell you, that put the fear of Jesus in him. Soon enough, everybody in Putnam knew that I was the "lightning girl," and it got a lot harder to get along with people. People just fear what they don't understand. And I never did see Naven again. Well, that's fate for you. Dwight accepts me for my weird relationship with the weather, and is as loving a husband as I can imagine. Naven didn't know what he was missing!

     Well, since that night in Putnam, I've been struck sixteen more times. Most of the rest of those have been in Old Town, but I did get hit once in Des Moines and once in Chicago. And guess what? The doctors just don't know what to say. They think there might be something in my body chemistry that makes me a human lightning rod, but they're not sure. And they especially don't know why I've never been seriously injured in my experiences. And neither do I. But I just have the feeling that this is all part of God's plan, and maybe he lets me get his so no one else has to be hurt.

     Anyway, if you're ever with me when a storm is brewing, you might want to stand back a ways. Don't worry about me, though. I'll be fine.