It’s 10 p.m. and the long, twisting swaths of Highway 81 are dark and desolate as the minivan sails by, winding its way towards the Canadian border.

Rabbi Yehuda and Shaindel Simes exchange weary but satisfied smiles. It has been a good trip, evidenced by the seven snacking, chatting children in the back seat, but now it’s time to get back to the Ottawa community they cherish, where they are both beloved teachers of Torah, involved in myriad kiruv activities. In fact, remembers Shaindel, it’s time to make a mental shopping list for this week, taking into account the dozens of guests who usually frequent their home on both weekdays and Shabbosos.

“We’ll be home in less than two hours,” one of the Simes children promises her oldest brother, who’s waiting for them at home.

Suddenly, impaled in the headlights, a large form looms ominously in front of the minivan. It’s a deer on the highway. Hitting a deer, Shaindel knows, is a danger that must be avoided. She swerves not a moment too soon. The car shimmies, balks, skids, and then they are keeling over, rolling endlessly on the stretch of pavement that plays with the van a morbid game of tennis. There are shrieks, screams, and the cell phone cuts off abruptly. Then everything is terribly, deathly silent.

Overturned

“Our whole family, except for our oldest son, was in the van,” Shaindel recounts. “When I lost control of the car, I remember thinking, Oh, my goodness, the car is going over! as I felt it turning and twisting. But when it all settled down and I next opened my eyes, the car was right side up, and I thought, Phew, I guess we didn’t turn over at all. In fact, we had — many, many times.

“But the whole ordeal was full of nissim. First, there was no one else next to us on the road at the time. Second, a car traveling behind us had seen the accident and immediately called 911 so that the police were there in no time — the highway was a sea of ambulances! And the biggest miracle of all was that every single one of us, aside from my husband, walked out of the car on our own. You should have seen pictures of the car — it looked like a tuna can!”

Dazed and in shock, Shaindel watched as emergency personnel swarmed around them.

“Are you expecting?” a paramedic asked her.

“I said no,” Shaindel recalls. “I was in such a state of shock that I just couldn’t remember. All I could think of was, Why are they asking me such personal questions? Then my kids said, ‘Ma, didn’t you say we’re having another baby?’ And then I remembered that yes, I was expecting, which I guess was pretty obvious to the medics. They asked me when I was due, and I simply couldn’t recall. Again, my children said, ‘Ma, didn’t you tell us you’re expecting around Rosh HaShanah, which is why you’re taking off next year from teaching?’ And that sounded vaguely familiar. I remember one of the kids exclaiming, ‘It’s a neis that we’re all okay!’ and I told them, ‘Yes, one day we’ll make a seudah.’ Next thing I knew, they were taking us to the hospital.”

Despite his mother’s fractured collarbone and some broken ribs, the unborn baby was found to be miraculously unharmed. And all seven of the Simes children in the van had escaped virtually unscathed. It truly was a miracle. But amid the euphoria at this abundant show of salvation, the fate of one family member was not immediately clear.

Yehuda had never left the car with his family.