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Escorting Angel |
It was another hot summer's day and I was escorting another group of teenagers to the beach. It seemed to me that I had been “chaperoning” forever, but this group was special. My stepson, Christopher, was a part of this group. At thirteen Christopher had decided to move in with his father and me. Adjustments were many, one of which was his becoming involved with church and church-related activities. Until that time, the number of times he had entered the house of God could be counted on one hand. After his first communion, he asked his father why we had a snack in the middle of the service. As far as he knew, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John could have been John, Paul, George and Ringo. But in the three years he had been living with us, Christopher had grown spiritually and was very active in the youth group of our small, South Georgia congregation. I, wanting to be the best stepmother possible, had become just as active. I taught the youth group during Vacation Bible School and during Wednesday night fellowship, participated in fund-raisers, held cookouts, hosted movies at home and escorted the group during planned nights out. My 1985 blue Ford Escort (appropriately named) scooted up and down the highway to nearby Crystal Lake or to Panama City Beach. |
This trip was to P.C., as we called it, which was about three hours away. The kids were excited as they boarded the church's van, which would lead the convoy, my Escort, which would follow, and one other vehicle. |
“Okay, everybody! Load up! ” our pastor, Steve, called out. The kids immediately made a dive for the three vehicles. I slipped into the driver's seat of my car. Stacey, a beautiful sixteen-year-old, slipped into the front passenger's seat. Her blond hair shimmered in the hot, Georgia sunshine as she turned to me and smiled. “Can I sit up front?" she asked. Her blue eyes twinkled with merriment. |
“I can't think of anyone I'd rather have sit next to me, ” I answered. |
Christopher and two others piled into the back. “Buckle up, everyone, ” I instructed dutifully. |
The doors closed, I turned the ignition, adjusted the air-conditioning, then quietly said a prayer, asking God for protection. Steve drove the van out of the church parking lot and I followed close behind. The next two hours passed quickly. Stacey and I chatted a good bit in the front of the car while Christopher and the others rattled on in the back. A steady stream of music flowed from my radio or the cassette player. The mood was upbeat and the car was full of the energy that comes from happy teen-agers. |
As we drove through Florida the sky seemed to get larger. | “Look, kids, ” I said. “Ever notice how much bigger and bluer the sky is in Florida? The clouds are whiter and fluffier. Wonder why that is? ” I asked, not expecting an answer. | Thick forests of pine trees had given way to tropical foliage and palms. Long, straight, and narrow highways became roads with deep curves. As we neared the city limits of one of the numerous Florida towns on the way to P.C., I slowed my speed according to the posted limit and kept my eyes on the van before me. |
The brake lights came on suddenly. My eyes shifted to the left, just in time to see a large, doublewide trailer rounding the curve ahead of me. I determined that there was plenty of room for both of us, but firmly gripped the steering wheel at 10 and 2 just the same. As the cab of the trailer and the front end of my car neared each other, the trailer suddenly shifted toward me. Logic and experience told me that we were going to hit. My eyes locked on my hands. I clenched the steering wheel even tighter, jerked the car to the right and slid across the shoulder of the road. |
“Everyone okay?” I asked after we came to a stop and I had caught my breath. |
“Okay, back here,” Christopher reported. |
I looked out the windshield and saw the van pull to the side of the road. Steve jumped out and ran toward me.
“You okay?” he asked, somewhat panicky. I smiled to reassure him. | “We're fine.”
“What happened?” he asked. |
“I don't know! He must not have judged the space needed to make that curve. But God was with us! I tell ya, it was as if He held my hands to this steering wheel!” |
“You'll be okay to drive the rest of the way?” |
“Oh, sure. Let's go. These kids want to go to the beach! Right, kids? ” |
“Right!” they all echoed. Everyone but Stacey. She looked at me with a dazed look in her eyes. |
“What's wrong? ?” I asked, as Steve sprinted back to the van.
“You said that your hands were on the steering wheel.” |
“Yeah...” |
“They couldn't have been. ” |
“Why do you say that? ” |
“Because your hands came across my chest to hold me back in my seat! ”
There's no doubt in my mind that I saw two hands holding the steering wheel and jerking it to safety. But there is also no doubt that, as a mother, I would have--by nature--placed my hands over Stacey in order to keep her safe. So whose hands were they? I believe that an angel accompanied us to P.C. that day. Whether he grabbed the steering wheel or held Stacey in place, I do not know. But he was there because he was sent by God. |
Contributed by Eva Marie Everson. |
Visit her PenNhnd web page.
Ms. Everson is the author of the book Pinches of Salt, Prisms of Light (together with Carmen Leal) |
The Gardening Angel |
I am selling my house and moving back into town because I have three acres that I cannot keep up due to an allergy to the sun. My church people have mowed for me the last two summers but I can't ask them to forever. One day while four of them were up here working, we were visited by an “angel.” A man drove up with a bush hog and mowed the two acres, one on each side of the house, (the church people mowing the middle one) and then drove off, not saying a word to anyone. I asked all my neighbors and no one knew him nor had they mowed. Truly an angel. |
Contributed by Sandra Cole
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Note: When Sandra first told me about the angel who drove a bush hog I had to write to her and ask her what a bush hog is. Here is her reply" “Funny you ask what a bush hog is. We had a nurse from the north working in the emergency room when a man was brought in with his leg 'chewed by a bush hog.' She looked at the leg, got wide eyed and said 'Do those animals run wild?' We got a big kick out of it because a bush hog is a big wide bladed part that you attach to a tractor that can cut through heavy thicket and make a quick clearing. Also, some farmers use it to mow and then bale hay with it.
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Heavenly Music |
Susan had spent day after day praying faithfully and this day was no different, at least at first! Her daughter, Sarah had suffered a stroke. It was severe! Sarah could not walk and she could not talk. How could this happen? Sarah had a family to take care of. She was a good person. She didn't deserve to suffer like this!
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Susan began her prayer. She always thanked God for all He'd done for her daughter, Sarah. Then as Susan began to ask if God would please, please help Sarah to walk again and to talk again. Susan just broke down sobbing. It was at that moment that the music began, Everything is Beautiful, in its own way.
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Susan was so startled she looked up toward a shelf in her living room. On it sat the lovely musical ornament that she had received months ago. The ornament was the last gift she had received from Sarah, shortly before the stroke! Susan was awed that this ornament should just suddenly begin to play, for the delicate ornament had not been touched in a long while. It had been the last gift Sarah gave her mom before the stroke.
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Now it was as though unseen hands wound the ornament to play for Susan. Susan felt peace and she felt comforted! This was such a beautiful gift of comfort for Susan to receive and she felt she surely knew that the musical ornament had begun playing by the hand of God. |
I Can See a Rainbow |
I was thinking about prayers one day and since I work a lot with small children I visualized the prayers crossing the sky on rainbows and sliding right down into God's lap. With those thoughts in mind I started composing a song. Now for you to understand where this is all going you will need to hear the words of the song. | |
I can see a rainbow, dancing in the sky | |
Where can it be going to, flying there so high? | |
Is it taking messages, who can they be to? | |
I can see a rainbow, can't you? | |
You will notice that nowhere in the song do I mention God or prayers, although they were very much on my mind as I composed the song. | |
Shortly after this, I made a visit to the city where my youngest granddaughter, Jani, lives. We were outside raking leaves and I decided to teach Jani (who was three at the time) the song, so I just jumped right in and began singing it. I sang the song once and began to sing it again. Jani got all excited and ran over to me and began tugging on my slacks. | |
“Grandma, grandma, I know,” she said. | |
“Know what, Jani?” I asked her | |
“I know where they are taking the messages!” she said.
“Grandma they taking the messages to God”
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by Ellie Braun-Haley
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The Birthday Message From Mom
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My mother passed away in 1983 at the age of 51. From the time I had left home she made a point of always calling me on my Birthday. Of course it wasn't during the day like most people would do. She would call at 3am in the morning. Every year it would start like this, "At this time, years ago you woke me up (she is referring to going into labor with me) so I thought I'd wake you up. Happy Birthday!" My mother had a great sense of humor.
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In the early years after she passed away, I missed those 3:00 am phone calls. I often thought if I could only hear her voice one more time.
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It was probably ten years after she died when this next event took place. My mother-in-law, Liz was visiting from Mexico. She was staying in our son's room. It was the night before my Birthday. My husband who wakes up if he hears a pin drop, fell asleep on the couch. By the way there was a phone on the wall not two feet from his head.
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After chatting with Liz I went to sleep. Across the room was an illuminated alarm clock with bright red numbers. I fell sound asleep. Sure enough in the middle of the night I awoke to the sound of the phone ringing. I looked at the clock, 3:00 am. I picked up the phone.
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The ringing phone had also roused Liz. I said hello but all I could hear was a cracking sound. You know the sound you hear when it's a bad connection. I kept saying hello. I said, "Liz, do you hear this?" Her answer was yes. Once again I said 'Hello. Who's there? Through the phone in a faint woman's voice I heard one word "Waterloo." With that, it stopped.
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The next morning I again asked Liz if she heard it and she replied 'Yes". My husband asked what we were talking about, and we replied "The telephone call at 3:00 am."
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My husband didn't hear the phone ring. I had picked it up on the second ring. By all rights Bob should have heard it, since one of the phones was right near his head.
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Liz said, "I don't understand. That call had so much static."
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I said, "did you hear the word Waterloo?" She said she had, but had no idea what it meant. With tears in my eyes I told her how my Mom always called me at 3:00 am in the morning to wish me Happy Birthday!
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Was it a call from my mom? Nobody else knew that she would call me in the middle of the night to wish me Happy Birthday. By the way my mother lived at 222 Waterloo Street. To this day I know in my heart, my mother always thinks of me at 3:00 am August 21st. | |
Contributed by Lori Renn. |
The Scent of Things
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When I was fourteen years old I experienced the joy of "my first love." Lonnie was fourteen, too. He and I were introduced via telephone by two of my friends, Connie and Mary Ellen. They thought we would be perfect together, and for a time, they were right.
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Lonnie and I had a lot of good times together. His mother, Miss Mary, wore TABU. Remember TABU? Very sweet, strong scent. It was so strong, in fact, that it lingered on Lonnie from the many hugs they shared.
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One afternoon, in late November of 1971, my world shattered. While hunting with his cousin Tommy, Lonnie was accidentally shot and killed. I will never forget the sheer grief of those days. Though I had lost someone I loved so dearly, it was my first encounter observing a parent's agony after losing a child.
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Lonnie was the only child, the adopted son, of Miss Mary and Mr. Dorsey. He was my first love and my best friend. His last words to me and mine to him were "I love you."
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The ironic thing is this: during the darkest moments of my life, I smell TABU. It never fails. As tears course down my cheeks and sobs rack my body with cleansing pain, the sweet scent returns. I don't understand it, and I don't care to dissect it. I just know that it happens.
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Every time!
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Contributed by Eva Marie Everson. | | |
Visit her PenNhnd web page. | |
Ms. Everson is the author of the book Pinches of Salt, Prisms of Light (together with Carmen Leal). |
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Ethel writes that she believes she definitely has a guardian angel watching over her, likely her mom who died after Ethel's first birthday. This is the story of Ethel's little boy, an earth Angel. |
A Hole in the Sky | |
Our son Dewey Clark Retrum was an earth Angel. He loved God's creations and spoke of them often. He had compassion for his younger brother, five year old Kevin and for his little sister who he never got to know. (His sister just turned 5 months when Dewey died).
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A couple of months before his passing Dewey insisted on making a boat out of a milk carton for his brother. He worked so hard because it had to be perfect. And he insisted on making Valentines for all of us. It was only October and I said he could wait on that because February is a long way off. He said, "no, I want to make them now." At this time we did not know that he was sick with leukemia. Dewey died Dec.27th. He was only seven years old. He knew that he wasn't going to be here for Valentines Day.
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The Doctors had told us to take him home and love him. Dewey just a short time to live. He was only in the hospital a few days for tests. At that time there was no cure in sight for leukemia. | |
What a heartache we had. We had to go on and it was hard to explain to Kevin why Dewey died. They were together all the time. That was his big brother and Dewey was always there to explain things and play with him.
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The day Dewey died something unusual took place. Just before he died, he sat up in bed and said, "Daddy, do you know there is a hole in the sky?" Then he stretched out his arms upwards and he said, "I'm coming, I'm coming." He laid back and he was gone. Dewey is always in our memory.
| | Contributed by Ethel Retrum.
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Sharon loved her father so much. Together they watched wrestling matches and participated in community theatre. They also both loved books. Sharon says "Dad enjoyed people, parties, hunting and fishing. Dad was bigger than life. He was considerate and caring. People either LOVED him or COULDN'T STAND HIM. There were no mid-way feelings! Dad loved my mother and was very protective of her, always!"
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About 22 years ago, Sharon's dad, Aristiede, crossed the veil. " I simply cannot say died," says Sharon." In my sleeping state, my dad came to me. I was in a bookstore, one of my favorite places and he told me to take care of my mother till she joined him. I promised I would and he shook his finger at me and said "Don't you forget, sister. I am still your father!"
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"You better believe I took care of my mother."
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Comments to Sharon.
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