But not for long.
I was awakened by the sound of ringing. Or was this a dream? It couldn’t be because I saw my husband reaching for the phone. Then we both realized it wasn’t the phone but rather the doorbell. I glanced at the clock. It was 3 a.m. Was this really happening?
“Ignore it,” I mumbled, still half-asleep. “It could be a burglar.” But the bell continued to ring. My husband dragged himself out of bed and peered through the peephole. I followed him in a daze. There was no one there.
“They must be downstairs trying to get into the building.” I looked out the front window and felt goose bumps spread all over my body. Right across the street next to our car was a police cruiser with its lights flashing.
“It’s the police,” I yelled, grabbing the windowsill for support. My husband turned pale.
“What else can go wrong tonight?” Did I cause an accident? Did something happen to our children? Why would the police be looking for us in the middle of the night?
I didn’t have too much time to think.
“I hope it’s safe to let them in,” my husband said. He hesitated for a moment before pressing the buzzer.
There were two pokerfaced police officers standing at our door. One was a short, stocky female, the other a tall, curly-haired male. They faced two frightened elderly people in slippers and robes still half-asleep, just waiting for the ax to fall. My mind still in a fog, I said, “Yes, what can we do for you?” The strange unnatural pitch didn’t sound like my voice at all. The male officer replied with a flat voice, “You left the keys in your car with the motor running.”
“What, the motor is running in the car?” “What do you mean?” “How did you find out?” “This is unbelievable!” “How do you know which is our car?”
Our questions came in rapid succession. We were both talking at the same time. My husband was the first to comprehend the situation.
“I had better go down and take care of it,” he said with a sigh of relief. To our great surprise the stone-faced police officers volunteered their services, and we accepted gratefully. With our extra key they got into our car, shot the engine and returned the keys to us. We thanked them profusely, but I still had to clarify one thing. “How did you know?” I asked the officers.
Their reply: “The people who live in the house where you parked called the police to report it. He gave us your plate number, and we found the owner.” I thought that they must have had a slow night with nothing better to do.
The next morning we heard that parts of the Belt Parkway had been closed due to heavy flooding. That’s when we came to the realization of how narrowly we escaped calamity. We were even saved from further repercussions, due to our unwise decision, by an alert neighbor and police assistance. It is remarkable how the outcome of this harrowing night was meticulously coordinated to our benefit. It left us more aware that Hashem, the greatest coordinator, runs the world. And He was watching over us.