her elbows merging with my own on her way down, the rocks digging into my skin when we hit the ground, the look on her sister's face when she realized she was having another seizure - i remember it all. i was 17, fresh out of high school, and in the jungles of Haiti.
i fell with my friend as gracefully as i could and placed my hand underneath her head. her sister ran up the hill towards the camp. we were about half a mile away.
it was going to be awhile.
i close my eyes and say a prayer. two white girls, one seizing, in the middle of the road in the Haitian jungle...i needed some God-magic. i heard footsteps and glanced up to see a man placing his machete on the ground. i tried not to look at the blade inches from my own skin as he knelt down to look at me.
...what happens after that is where it gets blurry. i remember giving him instructions (in English). i remember him understanding me. i remember the team coming down the hill in a van and me telling the doctor what happened. i remember trying to find the man but failing - him completely disappearing in a village of about 100 people.
what i believe: God offered protection that day in the form of an angel. in a moment where my friend and i were in danger, Christ showed his power by crashing through language barriers and societal norms.
my faith is still tinged with the red dirt of Haiti.