But I was in too much pain to be dead, right? I put my left hand right up to my face, but I couldn’t see even a hint of it. As I lay on my right side, my right arm and leg were pinned underneath me. A huge slab of concrete pressed against my head. Mustering all my strength, I pushed against it. Nothing. With my left hand, I could feel that an immense steel beam encased the rest of my body.
I was sealed in a coffin of concrete and steel. I screamed for help, but my voice went nowhere. I was alone. Completely alone. ' For twenty-seven hours, Genelle remained below the surface of Tower One’s rubble. During this time, she couldn’t help but reflect on the life she’d lived and how she’d drifted from the faith she once knew. One of her most painful regrets was that she’d left her daughter behind in Trinidad while she pursued her dream of singing and dancing in America. As death now seemed certain, she feared where it would take her. And then she remembered witnessing the miraculous recovery of her aunt when she was a child in Trinidad. Maybe . . . just maybe, God had a miracle for her as well.
For hours she prayed, remembering each detail of her walk away from the faith she’d known as a child. She begged God to forgive her—accepting that she may soon die, but praying for the miracle of life and a chance to live that life with a new purpose and direction.
God answered her prayer by sending an angel to sustain her. Now living in the light, Genelle is making good on the promises she made in the dark while buried in the rubble.