When I was 12 years old, there were about a dozen kids who got off the bus at the same stop that I did. One day, there was a boy who had been having trouble with some bullies on the bus, and he decided to get away from them by crossing the street in front of the bus -- at a full run -- without looking.

I'd heard of people saying that in a crisis time seemed to slow down, and for the first time I experienced that. The image of him bouncing off the side of the van which had chosen that moment to whip around the bus, is frozen in my mind. I can remember the screams of my friends around me, but for some reason, I felt completely calm. There was a corner of my mind analyzing the impact, concluding that his spine was most likely NOT injured, but at the same time seeing he was still lying in the road and the next car that came by would run over him having no way of seeing him there. So I did the only sensible thing, I picked up a guy twice my size and carried him out of harm's way.

I've since learned this type of calm during a crisis is a family trait. When my nephew started choking his mother just stood there screaming "OHMIGODOHMIGODOHMIGOD" while my mom pushed her out of the way and started the Heimlich maneuver. When my uncle had a chainsaw accident (2 words you never want to hear in the same sentence) he calmly wrapped his own arm and ordered his employee to drive him to the hospital. Somehow we are able to reserve our hysterics for a more appropriate time. It's a family trait I am very honored to have.

Melanie