story on the topic better late than never
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Better Late Than Never
Mohit was exceedingly delighted; he had been gifted a
super-bike by his parents. The parents were not happy as they had to buy the
bike against their wish. Mohit had been pestering them to buy the bike as all
his friends had vehicles.
It had been a week now since he had received it. he would hardly
stay at home now. He would find any excuse to go out on the bike. People who
had seen him ride the bike, had informed his parents that he rode it very fast.
The parents had asked him to ride it at slow speed; but he would forget
everything once he would sit on it.
One morning he woke up quite late. Obviously he was late for
the school. He rushed through his bath and breakfast. Picked up his bag. The way
he revved up the engine, his parents had an ominous fear. The mother rushed to
the gate and said, ‘Mohit, for God’s sake don’t ride the bike fast even if you
are late; the principal might scold you; but the fast ride might injure you.’
Mohit pacified her fears and sped out of the house.
His school was hardly three kilometers from his home;
however, in order to reach in time, he accelerated the speed. He was so
confident of his riding skills. He knew there was a crossing that usually
remained busy with traffic. One had to slow the speed. Since he was late, he
anticipated he could manage crossing the crossing. But he was mistaken. His fast moving bike collided with another bike whose rider appeared to have thought the same while crossing.
Both the riders lay unconscious, injured badly. The bikes were badly mutilated. They were rushed to the hospital. The site where the accident had occurred, a traffic awareness board displayed this message: ‘Better late than never.’
As I grew up, I knew my grandma as a saint. She didn’t just get her bible out of the closet on Sunday, go to church and then come home and do her own thing the rest of the week. She went to church every Sunday morning and night, every Wednesday night. She was also on the prayer chain at her church. And every morning, she read Our Daily Bread (which is why I started reading it too). But I went to church when I had to, at her house on any weekend. I was baptized at her church at the age of 9, but nothing changed. I kept living the same (not sinful, but not saintly), kept watching the same shows, sleeping in on Sunday mornings, normally, etc. But, at the age of 16, I was in a bad accident that almost, should of, killed me and spent 4 1/2 months in the hospital, a year in a wheelchair and shattered dreams (Air Force Academy was no longer an option). But then God orchestrated events that brought me closer to Him. Met a kid in High School at lunch who inspired me to read the Bible, at CU met my current best friend (who’s currently a missionary in Spain to North African Nations) who led a Bible Study and with whom I started attending church regularly. Baptized in 1984, bad accident in 1991, started reading the Bible in 1993, attending church regularly in 1994. (Also started reading Our Daily Bread in 1995.) Maybe, not the right way, but better late than never!