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Snuggled in our sleeping bags
Lying on a mattress
In a covered pickup bed
We traveled in the darkness

A flaw in the truck’s design
Caused exhaust pipe’s to leak
Unaware, we slept in time
Then… my father stopped to peek

He found us both unconscious
And worked to give us breath
He and a friend rescued us
From the deep, dark pit of death

Many times in life I know
My dad has thought to look on us
As promptings often grow
Born of the Holy Ghost

A few times I thought I was well
My crisis unknown to me
But he revived me, I live to tell
He acted on each prompting

My Father Rescued Me
Greg W. Haws
Ensign, Jan 2012, 15

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