White Wolves

This experience happened high in the mountains in the Flagstaff, Arizona, area at midnight.

I was tired of driving and my children were sleeping beside me as I drove on through the night. I started to get that heavy eyelid feeling more intensely as the twelve o’clock hour approached. I was thinking intensely about the man I loved so dearly; only a day ago we said goodbye in California. Little did I know at the time that I would never see him again.

Suddenly a white wolf ran across the road. I was only going 45 miles an hour, as the night was so black up there in the mountains.

My heart leapt out of me! “Oh, my God,” I prayed, “please don’t have let me hit the wolf.” After I slammed on my brakes, it truly felt as though I had hit something-a thud! I got out and walked around searching the road, looking under the truck, in the back, up ahead as far as I could see-nothing.

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head from side to side in confusion.

“I need to stop thinking about this man so much,” I remember thinking.

I got in the pickup and started down the road. One mile down the road I swerved-a white wolf lay dead in the road. Now I was really baffled! A couple of miles down the road I pulled over at a rest stop and fell into a deep sleep. The next morning I woke up to a picture drawn in the frost in the window. A man (a sick man), a house, and two trees. I studied the picture for quite some time.

At that moment I asked myself why I was heading back to the Midwest, leaving the man I wanted desperately to marry. But I proceeded due east, back to my roots. I would call him when I got back to the Midwest.

During my journey, I pondered on that white wolf as much as the man I loved. During the months that followed we made plans for him to come to the Midwest. One year later, just about the time he was going to come to South Dakota, I received a phone call. His best friend had stabbed him and he died one minute later.-Pamela Krommendyk, Lawrence, Kans.