In those few seconds, a fast movie of events whirled before his eyes.  How God had led him to find a lovely, Christian wife, how they were engaged in the work of God’s remnant church, and how their home had been blessed with two lovely little boys.  Yes, it was just an instant, and then he bowed his head and closed his eyes and out of the depths of his heart and soul he offered a short audible prayer that God, in His infinite wisdom, would spare the child.  As the prayer was being said, from a seemingly far distance came the words of the nurse again, “I have a good pulse now.  It is stronger!”  As the prayer was concluded, little Craig expelled hard and his first breath of air entered his empty lungs since the fall.  God had heard, God had answered.  A raspy breathing meant that now there was hope.  Within fifteen minutes an oxygen-equipped ambulance was available and a dash of thirty-two miles was made to the nearest hospital with proper medical facilities - Vassar Brothers of Poughkeepsie.     Craig clung hard to life those first few hours.  Every breath seemed like a promise from Heaven.  Every heartbeat an assurance that “I am with you always, even unto the end of the world”.  In his downward fall, Craig’s head had evidently hit a balcony edge and the diagnosis was a basal skull fracture with severe brain contusions.  The vital brain stem area of the brain had been damaged.  This area controlled the temperature, the heartbeat, the breathing - and his breathing was so labored.  As the Sabbath dawned the parents called for G. Eric Jones, president of the Greater New York Conference, with Gordon Ellstrom, pastor of the Jamaica church, and Eugene F. Armour, education and MV secretary, and the little boy was anointed.  By early afternoon on Sunday breathing became so difficult that an emergency tracheotomy had to be performed.  A catheter was instilled, and a nose tube placed into the stomach to be available as needed.  By Monday swelling was so great that the parents had to look closely to recognize their child.  Sometimes one has to wrestle with God.  It may be that we do not get close enough to God and He brings us to grips with Him through an emergency.  The parents found a meditation room in the hospital and how often they visited it during the coming days and nights.  How often they had to return to find new strength from the fountain that does not fail.  Slowly, progress was made.  “The first twenty- four hours,” the doctors said.  Then forty-eight hours . . . seventy-two hours . . . then ten days.  Nourishment began and after four weeks at Poughkeepsie, the attending neurosurgeon permitted Craig to be taken to a hospital on Long Island near his home.  Here he stayed for another two and a half weeks before he was pronounced fully conscious.