Luckily, the bullet that hit my chest never got to me. It was

James Doohan, remembered by many as the beloved "Scotty" of the stars, once revealed a tale from his youth in war: “Luckily, the bullet that hit my chest never got to me. It was stopped by a silver case I got for my brother’s wedding.” These words carry not only the weight of fate’s mercy, but also the deep reminder that life itself often hangs upon the smallest of chances. A gift, given in love for a wedding, became a shield stronger than steel, sparing a man who would later inspire millions.

The ancients would have seen in this story the hand of destiny. For what is more mysterious than a bullet, swift and deadly, halted by an object not crafted for war but for memory? A simple silver case, symbol of kinship and celebration, became the guardian of life. This paradox teaches us that protection does not always come from armor or weapon, but sometimes from tokens of love, carried close to the heart.

History recalls a similar tale in the life of Theodore Roosevelt. In 1912, while delivering a speech during his campaign, he was struck in the chest by an assassin’s bullet. By fortune, the projectile was slowed by the folded speech he carried in his pocket, along with his eyeglass case. Though wounded, he lived to finish his speech, declaring, “It takes more than that to kill a Bull Moose.” Just as with Doohan, it was not armor, but ordinary objects that turned aside death, preserving destiny.

Doohan’s words are also a hymn to gratitude. He does not boast of survival, nor claim strength, but speaks of being lucky — acknowledging the unseen hand that spared him. This humility reminds us that life is not solely preserved by our own power, but often by the interwoven threads of chance, gift, and grace. The wedding gift of a brother became the difference between silence and survival, between an early grave and a long life.

Let the generations remember: never despise the small things, for they may hold the weight of destiny. A token of love, a folded paper, a keepsake of kinship — these may stand between life and death. As James Doohan’s story shows, the line between mortality and survival is fragile, yet even in that fragility there is wonder. Cherish every gift, every bond, every moment, for you know not which may one day rise to shield your life from the storm.