The only sound was the rumbling of the bus’s engine. Suddenly I heard a woman’s voice: “Let me help.” Rays of light flashed around me as she approached. “Use this,” the woman said, putting a flashlight in my hand. “We’ll get everyone out.” Her face was hidden in the dark, but her voice was calm and strong.

I turned, aiming the beam of the flashlight. It was a shock, seeing our huge bus crashed on its side, wheels spinning. “I’m going back inside!” I shouted. Sergeant Jennings and I climbed onto the rear bumper and opened the escape hatch on the roof of the bus. “Here we are!” I called to my friends. Hands reached up to me as I crawled in. “Gotcha,” I said, shifting one of the boys toward the hatch. Sergeant Jennings pulled him to safety. One by one, I helped my friends out of the bus. Some crawled through the window, and the others went out through the escape hatch. I collected backpacks, blankets, pillows, shoes — anything I could find.

Sergeant Jennings lay against the bus’s side, helping the kids to the ground. The woman was there too, comforting everybody. Police cars soon arrived, and we waited for the buses to take us home. All of us were safe, including the bus driver who’d had a seizure at the wheel.

When I looked around for the woman, she was gone. “Where is she?” I asked Sergeant Jennings. He shook his head. We couldn’t have made it without that woman. She brought us light. — Beliefnet.com (Concluded)