You know you love this: you’re driving up to an intersection, and you’re not sure if you’ll make it before the light turns red. You look at the signal on the crosswalk as its flashing numbers count down before it will remain the solid red hand of doom, but from as far away as you still are, you can’t tell if it’s on fourteen or four. Even when it is fourteen, the “1” on the left is too small and too close to the side of the signal to read clearly.
As you barrel towards the intersection, hoping against hope, and as the countdown rapidly runs out, you begin to despair as it reaches zero. The solid red hand and its companion yellow light are inevitable.
But wait! What’s this? The countdown continues, going from zero to nine! Why, it wasn’t a zero; it was a ten, after all! Oh, you wily skinny “1” all the way on the left of the signal! Do you hide over there on purpose just to torment the visually challenged motorists who depend on you to expedite their commute?
Well, no matter. The fact is that you, my friend, have been granted a reprieve, a stay of execution, and you get to continue breezing your merry little way through this intersection, and with a whole eight seconds left on the light! Oh, joyous, rapturous day!
Be sure to express gratitude for this in your prayers.
Gently Hew Stone 