I pushed her hair away from her mouth to keep her airway clear, and tried to tilt her head back, but as I did so, she gave a small gasp, and quit breathing. Frightened now by this event, I pried her mouth open and leaning over I placed my mouth over hers and exhaled. I watched as her chest expanded with the incoming air and then as it slowly compressed again. I tried again, and then again. I put my ear next to her heart and her rough-spun flannel shirt brushed against my ear as I listened for her heartbeat. It was not audible. I made a hammer with my two fists and struck her chest.

In a desperate attempt to save this young girl's life, employed all the life-saving techniques I had been taught as a coach and a lifeguard who was constantly around young children, but in the end it was too no avail.

Exhausted, I glanced around, surveying the scene. It was not until then that I noticed the sound of a siren in the distance, slowly coming closer. "Excellent," I thought, "but a bit late, I'm afraid." I glanced back over my shoulder...

The engine had stopped, and the silence was as if in remembrance of a young, vibrant life passing to the next world.
A leaned back on my heels and looked around. The sun was peeking through the clouds that had just recently been so dark and foreboding, and I could feel the warmth of its rays on my face. I lifted my head to the sun and realized that my cheeks were wet with tears. I was surprised at my emotional response to this experience, I'm normally a pretty hard-hearted kind of person, emotional responses are not my forte.

It was at that point that I heard a quiet sob and hiccup coming from the jeep. Startled, I jumped to my feet and ran over to the vehicle. Looking inside I saw nothing. I pulled the seat forward and leaned over it. There lay a small boy tucked snugly and seat-belted into a toddler's car seat. Looking up at me, he smiled and held his arms open. I smiled back at him as I pulled his little body from the wreckage.