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Do you believe in angels?

Do you believe in angels?

One cloudy morning, I stepped outside with my raincoat, well-worn rain bonnet and my dilapidated umbrella in my arms. It was the day I paid my weekly visit to the beauty shop and ran a few errands.

My first stop after I left my beautician was my favorite produce stand. I selected half a dozen beautiful tomatoes and several large red potatoes. Since I had never seen large red potatoes before, I was convinced they were good by another customer who declared his wife had cooked some the night before. He said they were delicious. That purchase left me with only a couple of dollars in my billfold. I needed to go to the bank. A few drops of rain splattered on my windshield but disappeared by the time I reached the bank. I guess since the sky looked clear at the moment, all that rain gear did not cross my mind.

After I finished my business at the bank, I walked to a side exit on the way to my car. I had just opened the door to go outside the bank when the bottom fell out. Then I remembered. All my rain gear, everything I needed to keep dry, was on the front passenger seat of my car.

I had two choices. One, I could dash out in that pouring rain or two, I could wait it out. I had no intention of stepping out and destroying my fresh hair-do. I backed against the wall to wait.

I had been standing there for about ten minutes watching the rain and wondering if it was ever going to stop when a car pulled up. I thought someone would get out and make a dash to the door. Suddenly a smiling young man emerged carrying an umbrella and walking toward me. Holding the umbrella over my head, he walked me to my car. “Have a blessed day,” he said as he walked away. I was overwhelmed with that unexpected act of kindness. Was he an angel in disguise? 

   One Sunday during worship service I found myself in an embarrassing situation. I thought about a woman who tore her bulletin into several strips every Sunday morning as soon as she entered and took her place on a pew. I wondered why. All these years later my own experience taught me. I now know she used the strips as markers for the hymnal pages. I realized her situation was probably the same as mine. My finger tips had lost their grip. I struggled to turn the hymnal pages to the first song, but they kept sticking together. The congregation was almost finished when I finally reached the right page. When it was time for the next hymn someone offered me a hymnal with the right page open and took mine. No words were spoken. We swapped hymnals, with this thoughtful and observant person continuing to hand me one turned to the right songs during the rest of the service. What a wonderful act of kindness that was, Could it have been guided by an angel?