The rain beats down heavily on my windshield as I wait for the light to change. My driver's side window is open, as I listen to the sound the water makes as it smacks against the road and my outstretched hand. My hair is sopping wet, still dripping puddles onto my now see-through shirt. I shiver slightly, but I'm not truly cold. Two boys stand on the corner next to me, waiting for their turn to cross the street.
Death Cab for Cutie sings to me of being loved one day as the light turns green. I don't let up on the break, as I see a fire engine approaching. Unlike the drivers I deal with constantly, I wait my turn. The light turns back to red as soon as they pass. Normally I'd be upset, anxious to get home, but tonight I am content letting the rain run in rivulets down my arm. I faintly hear the boys next to me over the fading sound of the siren.
"Dude, do you think we should pray for them and wherever they're going?"
"Yeah, for sure." Their adolescent diction sounds so foreign in the context. I watch them stand together, hands clasped in front of them, heads bowed. No words; just the sound of my windshield wipers beating away the persistent rain. I turn them off and listen to the sound. The siren carries on faintly in the background as the lightning strikes and my soul rattles along with the thunder. Rain beats a steady tempo on the hood of my car. Death Cab carries on, telling me that I'll find my true love soon enough, but the silence is there.

You may feel alone when you're falling asleep
And everytime tears roll down your cheeks
But I know your heart belongs to someone you've yet to meet
Someday you will be loved

I feel shivers run down my spine as I gingerly touch the mizpah coin hanging around my neck. Every time the tones drop, I silently ask that my partners and I be kept safe, and that if I should die on this call, that those I love know that I love them. But I never really stopped to think from the other side of things. Who prays for me when I run through red lights with my siren blaring? Who prays for my patients, or for their families? I glance over at the boys still frozen in prayer.
They do.

As the light turns green, I let up on the clutch slowly, driving through the empty intersection as quietly as possible. I catch sight of them in my rear-view mirror as the lightning flashes; I see them captured in that moment each time I close my eyes.

And the rain falls hard on my hand as the world carries on outside of that street corner which will remain forever seared in my memory.

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