I cannot remember a time when I did not believe in angels. My Sunday school teachers told wonderful stories about angels visiting humans -- I particularly loved the story of the angel choir announcing the birth of Jesus. I not only loved the story, but the fact we were studying that section of the Bible meant Christmas was not very far away!
There is a huge difference, though, in believing IN something and KNOWING it for a fact. I learned first-hand the power of angels when I was six. I had lost my hearing but didn't really know that. My hearing loss happened gradually, and even my parents didn't know--they just thought I wasn't paying attention or was using "selective hearing" when I claiimed not to have heard them.
I was in the first grade and rode the bus to and from school. Pam and David were still at home, so Mama walked across the yard to the railroad crossing with me every morning and met me there every afternoon. But one day she was running late -- I don't know why. I felt so grown up getting off the bus without Mama there. I started across the ditch, across the tracks, and then I saw Mama running across the yard waving her arms. Really, had she lost her mind? Didn't she know people might see her? When I felt the ground vibrating, I looked to my left -- and there was the train. There I stood, in the middle of the tracks, a train looming down on me -- I didn't know what to do. And in the blink of an eye, I was back off the tracks, the train zooming by and gradually slowing down. There was no bright light or heavenly sight -- I was just OFF the tracks. When the train finally stopped -- I couldn't imagine why--the conductor got on top of the train and ran towards the back. It wasn't until he saw me standing there that he went down on his knees and I saw him crying. It was a long time later that I realized he thought he had hit me. He got up and waved at Mama, who was, to my horror, lying on the ground trying to see under the train. I can't describe anything; I only know that a power greater than I moved me off the tracks.
Years and years later, Granny got sick. She finally agreed to move in with Mama and Daddy because she needed round-the-clock care and it was too much for Pigo. She was in great pain with pancreatic cancer and was sometimes unsure of the time -- of the day, the year, or her life. One morning Daddy called and said I might want to come. Granny had been up since 4:00 begging to go home. Making every effort to grant her wishes, Mama and her sisters had loaded her into the Tahoe and taken her to her house. But that's not what she wanted. We waited on her all day. Suddenly, she wanted to sit up. It took several of us to help her because she was so weak. She started smiling and clapping -- we didn't know what was going on. She kept saying, "He's coming, he's coming!" And then her face fell. And in a soft voice full of despair, she said, "He skipped me." I'll never forget how sad she was, and I'll always believe that her angels were taking care of her during that time.
A year and a half after Granny died, Pigo had a stroke. I'll always say he died of a broken heart -- he missed Granny so much! The morning of his stroke, I went to his house to check on him -- I had had a dream that wouldn't go away. I found him sleepy and not able to talk much and called family in to help. A few hours later, in his hospital room, he said what I believe were his last words: "I need some water" and "Don't worry--they're all around me." What else would he have been talking about? It had to be angels.
Recently, Vicki gave me the book Angel Song to read. It's written by Sheila Walsh and Kathryn Cushman -- Women of Faith speakers and authors. If you like to read, get it. If anyone you are close to has ever died, read it. To be honest, I couldn't read it at first. It involved a car wreck and someone dying, and Robert's death is still very fresh for me. But I kept going back to it, and when I could read it I got such comfort from that book. A thought that has not left me since Robert's accident is that he was all alone, but I should have known better. It took this book to remind me of that. He wasn't alone at all -- angels were singing all around him.
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