Harmer Accidents

A cool breeze finally blew through the window, bringing comfort into the stuffy dorm room. I sighed with relief, then forced myself to concentrate on the words.

“… We’re grateful for the chance to be here together, and …”

I opened my eyes again and peeked around my room at 15 kneeling girls.

“… We’re thankful that Viv is our counselor and for all the things she does for us …”

I smiled and blushed a little. I hoped I was doing the right things for them. Being a counselor for the BYU youth summer camps wasn’t the easiest job in the world, and it was an important one.

“… Bless us to do what’s right …”

I shifted on my knees, vainly trying to find a comfortable position on the hard floor.

“… We’re thankful for …”

This prayer was getting long! But this was a great group of kids, further ahead in maturity and spirituality than many of my friends.

“… Please help us to pass this night without harm or accidents, and we say …”

I just about laughed out loud when I heard that line and started coughing to cover up the giggle that almost escaped. Even after ten years that phrase made me laugh if I was caught off guard. People used it so often and it reminded me of …

I snapped open my eyes, saw that the prayer had ended and my girls were standing up, looking strangely at me. Hoping that they would think I was just extra pious, I smiled meekly. Then I unfolded my arms, stood up quickly, and said with authority, “Okay, everyone, lights out in five minutes! We start hiking at eight o’clock tomorrow morning; … No, you can’t have another pizza party. We’ve had three this week.”

After the girls had complimented each other on pajama attire, gushed about all the cute boys they’d met that day, had a pillow fight (with all my pillows), and given everyone at least three hugs, I was left alone. I lay down on my bed and looked up at the cinder block walls. Harm or accidents. I laughed again, remembering what I used to call them.

I was probably about three years old when I first became aware of all the people in my ward who prayed for “no harm or accidents to befall us as we go home.” To my three-year-old ears, however, it always sounded like “Harmer accidents.” Since my last name was Harmer, this was great! Public prayers immediately took on a new aspect of interest and importance for me.

In our own family prayers, of course, Dad had always asked that we be protected from Harmer accidents, which we children categorized as car crashes, fires, spankings, or other bad things. Amazing to me was that everyone prayed about Harmer accidents! In Sunday School, Primary, and sacrament meetings, someone always prayed that no Harmer accidents would happen on the way home. I always felt so important after these prayers. Because no one wanted my family to get hurt (I was sure it was because everyone liked us so much), they had a special part of the blessing just for us.

Even people I didn’t know prayed for me! I remember attending a session of general conference once and hearing a General Authority promise protection from Harmer accidents as we traveled home. Well, I just about floated right out of the Tabernacle.

As I look back, I can see that I had a lot of faith in prayers when I was a child. When I heard so many people using my name in the prayer, I was sure Heavenly Father must hear, too. When I prayed, I really talked to my Father in Heaven and asked him for personal care. A prayer was more to me than a religious norm that opened and closed a meeting. Asking for protection from Harmer accidents was more than an expected and often overused closing to a prayer. It came to stand for my faith in prayer and my belief that every prayer was original and sincere.

I was about eight when I saw “harm or accident” written out and for the first time realized my mistake. I can remember having a feeling of great disappointment. People weren’t really praying for me after all. Heavenly Father wasn’t looking out for me in particular. Asking for protection from harm or accidents was just something that sounded appropriate at the end of a prayer. The feeling of disappointment soon faded, however, along with my keen interest in prayer. In fact, the only time I even wondered about prayer anymore was when my mind wandered during one, or when I laughed about Harmer accidents as I had done tonight.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts, and I was up quickly to find someone a pillow, take care of someone’s cold, and hear someone else’s problems. It was just as well. There were important things for me to do besides thinking about prayer dialogue.

The next morning dawned sunny and clear, promising a wonderful day. Instead, everything seemed to go wrong. To start things off, everyone (including me!) slept in. Unfortunately, when young people sleep in, it usually seems more important to spend five precious minutes on their hair instead of their knees. It must have happened to all of us that day. At breakfast, instead of laughing bravely at the cafeteria food and talking eagerly of the day’s activities, everyone complained, refused to eat, and asked the counselors if they had to go hiking. Not being in the best mood myself, I snapped back answers and rushed the kids around.

My spirits didn’t rise very much when I learned that I had to drive up the mountains instead of hiking. Someone had to bring the food and the kids who didn’t want to hike. Things didn’t look much better when I saw what I was supposed to drive. It was a huge van that growled viciously at me when I turned it on. It took every ounce of my strength to turn the steering wheel, and the stick shift threatened to break my arm every time I touched it. To top it all off, I got lost trying to follow the other cars in our group up the canyon.

In spite of all of this, we finally made it to the top, found the hikers, and started the barbecue. I cheered up a little bit and decided that we could finish the day on a good note.

Just when the meat was smelling good and the kids were starting to smile, it was discovered that someone had forgotten the spatulas and knives. All eyes, of course, turned immediately to the table I was trying to hide under. Thinking quickly, I saved my skin by showing everyone how we could flip hamburgers with branches and drop the watermelons onto sharp rocks instead of using knives. Everyone got to eat, but they were still pretty mad, tired, and ready to get out of the canyon.

No one wanted to leave more than I did, and after cramming everyone into the cars, I hurried the other counselors so we could get back as soon as possible. My vehicle was the last of the four cars in our group to come down the narrow, winding dirt road. Besides being in a hurry, all the drivers were tired and preoccupied with the kids. That must have been why no one noticed the big truck in time to slow down. The first two cars were able to swerve around it, and, amazingly, I was able to skid to a stop when I saw it. Then we watched helplessly as the car in front of us was knocked off the road. I sat in a daze as the car, filled with people I was responsible for, rolled over and smashed into a big tree, inches away from a steep drop-off.

I held my breath until, one by one, the kids started crawling out of the driver’s window. Then I jumped out of my car and ran to see if anyone had been seriously injured, praying that I wouldn’t need to use my newly learned first-aid skills. We got everyone out quickly, and I ran around making sure everyone was all right.

Miraculously, no one had even been bruised in that smashed car. Some of the kids were pretty scared and the car would need to be towed, but everyone was safe. As we helped the kids into other cars, another counselor showed me how close they had come to going right over the edge. Another girl saw it, too, and started to go into shock. She had been sitting right by the window during the accident and had been sure the car would go right over the edge. She was put into my car, and I was instructed to take her to the hospital, driving carefully this time.

I climbed into my car and tried to stop shaking long enough to pick up the keys. I couldn’t. All the girls were crying, and the boys who had been in the other car were giving everyone a play-by-play account of the accident, complete with sound effects. I had to calm these kids down, but I was too scared to even pick up the keys. I put my head down on the big steering wheel and tried to regain some composure before everyone else went into shock, too, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what had almost happened because of my impatience and anger. I started crying. I couldn’t get out of this canyon by myself! We were going to crash again if I drove! What would I say to the parents of these wonderful kids if anything happened? I couldn’t do it by …

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around to look into the very dirty, but calm, face of a young boy sitting behind me.

“Viv,” he said bluntly, as only a 12-year-old can, “you’re a nervous wreck. You need to get control of yourself or we’re not going to make it down. We’d better have a prayer.”

I couldn’t do a thing but stare at him, so he gave a prayer, the shortest, simplest one I’ve ever heard. “Heavenly Father, we’re thankful that everyone’s okay. Help us to get home without any harm or accidents. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”

I lifted up my head and looked at this skinny 12-year-old boy. Then I started to cry again, but they weren’t tears of fear or frustration this time. Harmer accidents. He had asked the Lord to protect us from Harmer accidents. And, without a doubt, he believed that the Lord would do it! Suddenly, I found myself believing it, too. We would be protected from harm or accidents as surely as if we had prayed specifically about Harmer accidents. Not since I was eight years old and thought people prayed specifically for my safety had I felt with such assurance that a supplication for my safety would be heard and valued in heaven.

Driving safely down Provo Canyon that night, I learned a long-overdue lesson. It’s not the words we use in prayers that make them meaningful. It’s not the length that makes the Lord listen, nor the style that brings comfort. It’s the faith and sincerity with which we offer our prayers that make them work. I thought of all the times that I had prayed for protection from harm or accidents without really meaning or believing it. It only took the simple faith and prayer of a young boy to restore my faith in that phrase. I could offer prayers with the faith I had at age three if I just made sure my words were accompanied by faith and sincerity.

Think of all the phrases that we use so often in LDS prayers, too many times without much thought, sincerity, or faith. It’s not wrong to use the same phrases in our prayers, because quite often we need the same blessings. We just need to be sure that our minds are active in the prayer as well. Don’t make the mistake I did, thinking that it isn’t possible to have an oft-repeated phrase mean something very personal to you. Don’t say any part of a prayer without having it mean something very important to you.

Whenever I hear someone praying about Harmer accidents now, I’m grateful that my Heavenly Father cares enough about me to literally bring that prayer to pass every day of my life. I’m grateful that a very patient Father protected me from Harmer accidents, even when I didn’t have much faith in supplications for protection. Let’s think about the phrases we’re using in our prayers and why we’re using them. Most importantly, let’s remember that a loving Father hears and answers our prayers. We can turn to him for comfort and ask him for protection from Harmer accidents, Hansen accidents, Smith accidents, and everything else—if we will just ask sincerely, with faith that he hears.