Cherish small miracles

Everyday occurrences sometimes leave one wondering.

This story starts with a planned hunting and blueberry-picking trip into the hills of Eureka. Late Friday afternoon, Aug. 22, my son Brian, grandson Elliott and I departed Wasilla and headed toward Eureka on the Glenn Highway.

As 8-year-olds go, Elliott was very excited about our trip. So when the truck started breaking down around Sheep Mountain Lodge, I pulled over. The engine light was blinking and other lights were coming on at the same time. It felt as if our trip was about to end.

Elliott was in tears by this time, and Brian was trying to make him feel better. I turned off the truck, then turned it back on, but to no avail. The lights were still flashing and I feared the engine would seize up. I could not disappoint my grandson, however, so we continued on to Eureka.

We managed to get to the parking lot and park the truck. I decided we would just deal with it when we finished and get a tow back to town. We unloaded the Argo Avenger six-wheeler and headed into the backcountry.

Right before dark, we made camp on the trail. The next morning, after breaking camp, a large “Parka” squirrel came by and Elliott got to complete his hunt. Then we were on the hunt for blueberries.

After a couple hours of driving the Argo into the mountains toward Monument Valley, we met two young Korean men. They waved and we stopped. They were in a fix: one of their four-wheelers had been damaged beyond repair. They said about seven people came by but we were the only ones who offered to stop and help.

Giving them a roll of Duck tape and some useless advice, I told them if they could not fix it we would be picking berries and to come and find us — we would help them out. Elliott said "Granddad, I have some new friends." My son said helping them was a good life lesson for Elliott — one that he would always remember.

By now my own problems with the truck didn't seem so big.

We found a great berry patch and after sometime we had gallons of blueberries. Our new friends showed up, still in need of help. Now five of us were picking berries. After collecting several gallons with the additional help, we were ready to go.

With a four-wheeler in tow, I wasn't sure if the Argo was up to the task of a 30-mile trip through mountains, swamps, bogs and rocks. By 3 p.m. we were back in the parking lot where my broken-down truck sat. After unhooking the four-wheeler, the Korean men were very grateful and offered to pay us for helping them.

When we refused their offer they simply said "God bless you." I looked at them and said "Thank you, I appreciate that." That was all the payment I needed. My son, grandson and I felt very good about the trip.

I then called my wife, Cindi and she came up to meet us, thinking we were going to need a tow and needing other transportation to get home.

When Cindi got there we loaded things in the car and prepared to leave.

I decided to try the truck one more time. It started up and this time the light was on but not flashing as before. I decided to try and drive it home, despite the dealership having told me not to drive it in that condition. I made it all the way home, pulling the trailer and Argo on it.

The next day, we took it to the dealership and they could not find anything wrong with it.

So, if there was nothing wrong with my truck, then what happened? I would say nothing went wrong; it was just a small miracle.

Chuck Graham lives in Wasilla.