I was at the kitchen sink, washing the fruit that I had just picked up at the grocery store when my husband came in and announced with tears in his eyes, that our daughter had been in a car accident.  “How bad?” I asked.  “Is anyone hurt?”  “Is she okay?”

I am grateful to report that she and her teammates are all okay.  My mini-van, sadly, is not.  But I’m grateful that she was driving my car and not hers.  She was driving volleyball carpool and was stopping for gas before the hour-long drive home.  The weather was clear and she was not distracted.  The other driver missed a stop sign.

I am grateful that a rescue squad just happened to be at the same gas station and they were able to check on the girls and direct traffic.   I am grateful that the other driver and her son were not injured.  I am grateful that one of the girls called 911 while our daughter called us.  I am grateful that the police officer that arrived on the scene was calm and kind.

I am grateful that the weather had cleared, the sky was blue and the roads were clear. My husband and I made it to the accident site safely.

I am grateful that my cell phone battery had enough charge for a text to the other parents and calls to my daughter, calls to the other girls, calls to the other parents and directions from Google Maps — my charger was in my car — and my battery was on its last legs.

I am grateful that there was a mini-mart attached to the gas station and the girls were able to get a hot chocolate while they waited for us to arrive.

I am grateful that the damage to the car, though substantial (the air bags deployed), was such that my husband was able to drive the car home without any problems.

I am grateful that the other parents met their daughters at the designated drop off points and gave my daughter a great big hug.

I am grateful that she is home safe.