For the past four weeks we have been cycling on Saturday mornings. My husband is a cyclist and my son is turning out to be an ace on a bike too. If I don’t join them and my daughter, I am resigned to staying at home alone (housework is not totally my thing).

Last week we stopped at the traffic light, on the sidewalk waiting to cross over. My son was a few millimeters too close to the road. I called out to him to move back as I was last in line, and he was at the front with pedestrians in between. As I was calling out, a bus came rushing past, it missed the front of his bicycle by an arm’s length. The driver hooted at him and I could feel the wind from the passing bus. My son’s one foot was clipped into the pedal so he was sort of attached to the bicycle. It was one of those moments that feel as though an angel was right there protecting my son. It still makes me shudder when I think of it.

Until.

Yesterday we went further than we should have. We went as far as my daughter and I could go, but then still had to make our way back. At one unknown point in the road we crossed over – my son and his dad ahead, my daughter and then myself (I’m always lagging behind). It was a slip road, and my daughter never crossed over directly, she was cycling diagonally over it. I was already on the other side. I thought to myself – she is on the road – and yelled out, get off the road! As I was calling out, I saw a bus appearing to be coming towards us. I watched my daughter continue cycling and make it to the side just as the bus hurtled past us, followed by another with neither seeming to have any indication of breaking.

My heart stopped in that moment. (Can’t even bear to think about it). I had to thank the Angel(s) again for keeping my family safe.

I woke up this morning with this moment in my head and had to say thanks once again. My children are safe. And they both so easily could not have been.