The Jug by Robin Densmore Fuson
Have you experienced a miracle? Do you believe God will do the miraculous? Read this true story.
The four of us sang as
the station wagon carried us through a hot summer day in southern California.
Dad’s bass voice stilled and his shoulders tensed. Steam
rose from the engine. Smooth as a well-polished table, he navigated the
disabled vehicle onto the grassy shoulder out of harm’s way. Opening the hood,
the cloud of hot mist shot into the air to mix with the humidity.
“What are we going to
do?” Mom’s question brought my eyebrows together. I peered behind, then in front
of us at the forever-long road, where the heat rose looking like wavy distorted
glass. I saw nothing but grassland on each side of the highway.
Dad shook his head. “I’ll
go for help.”
We were miles away from
any town. Would he be able to make it?
“Pray girls.” Momma said as
she got out of the car.
I knew what to do, after
all, I was eight years old. My four-year-old sister followed suit as I bowed my
head and prayed for the Lord to do something, somehow. I suspected Mom and Dad
prayed with their eyes open.
Dad pointed. “There’s a
house, I’ll go see if I can borrow water.” A small farmhouse stood five or six
baseball diamonds away. I’d been to ball fields and watched games on
television. My dad had been a major-leaguer. From this distance, the wood house
looked like a miniature dollhouse.
“What will you put the
water in?” Momma put her hands on her hips and looked back at the car.
About that time, on the
other side of the highway, a loaded-down bus drew abreast. The painted white
school bus filled with people and the cargo area on top maxed out was a sight I
hadn’t seen before. A large tubular insulated jug vaulted off the top, bounded,
and bounced down the medium. It had to be empty to jump like a crazed kangaroo.
The bus kept going.
My strong six-foot-tall
dad sprinted across the lanes to that bright orange container and picked it up.
A grin split his face as he tore back across the pavement to leap over the
fence and jogged through the tall grass to the far-off house.
We waited. Mom, with her
hair plastered to her head, climbed in to get out of the burning sun. We
cranked the windows down hoping for some relief. A broken car meant no
air-conditioning. Sweat trickled down my back. My legs stuck to the vinyl seat.
The air felt thick and smelled like dust. I couldn’t rest my head on my
forearms out the window, to watch daddy, for fear of getting burned by the hot
Surprisingly, my sister
and I didn’t argue or fight. We were quiet as cotton balls falling onto the
Dad started back. Slow
this time. That thing he carried must be around forty, or a thousand hundred
pounds. I counted cars that passed—not one stopped to help us. That was okay
because we had God on our side. He helped us a whole lot. Didn’t He kick that
jug off the bus for us to use? Didn’t our car break down near the only house
for miles? Didn’t God make my daddy strong to carry the heavy load?
Dad placed the container
down and climbed over the barbed wire fence. He reached over, careful not to
puncture himself, and lifted the huge thing to our side. The shirt he wore
could be wrung out. He slowly poured the water into the radiator, sloshing a
The bus that lost the jug
pulled up right behind us. “Uh oh.” Would they be mad?
A guy smiled and waited
for Daddy to finish emptying the water into our thirsty car.
“Thank you so much!
“Si, de nada.” The kind
man twisted the lid back on, carried it to the bus, and climbed on top. We
watched him tie it on the brackets with the other stuff.
Daddy folded his sweaty
body back into the car and turned the key. The car roared to life and we headed
to the nearest town to find a mechanic.
I started a song and we
sang all the way there.
I’ll never forget that
day. God made himself real to me and proved He can do miraculous things. From
that time on, I’ve expected the Lord to do the impossible because that’s what
He does. He’s never let me down.
the jars with water,” Jesus told them. So they filled them to the brim. Then He
said to them, “Now draw some out and take it to the headwaiter.” And they did
(John 2:7-8 csb).