My Guardian Angel

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I sincerely believe that each of us has a guardian angel who does their very best to look after us during our days on earth.

For the most part, mine can take it pretty easy. I don’t ride motorcycles or climb mountains. I stay out of the woods on windy days and I don’t stay out late at night. It’s a pretty cushy job for a guardian angel.

But there are those times when action is required. One such event happened a few weeks ago.

We were going to visit our son in Albuquerque. I had bought tickets on Southwest in October and immediately announced that we would be flying on March 8, 2016. This meant we would leave for the Baltimore Airport on March 7, spend the night, and be quite ready to catch the plane the next morning.

I wrote March 7 on all the calendars. My son also wrote it on his. I made a reservation at the hotel and phoned the cat sitter to begin on March 8. I printed off my travel itinerary from the airlines and put it in a safe place. I also marked on the calendar that we would have to check in to the airlines at 9:45 on Monday, March 7.

Sunday, March 6, after church, we began packing. Within a few hours we had everything tucked into our luggage. My husband put gas in the car and extra cat litter boxes in the garage. Our plans were to run a few errands on Monday morning, of course check in with the airlines, and do some laundry. We were so prepared.

About 8 p.m. that evening we were watching television. I was anxious for the final show of Downton Abby and my husband was going to have a gab fest with his ham radio buddies. My ever present Ipad was on my lap and I took time to check my emails. There was one from Southwest. “Your plane is ready for takeoff,” it read. “And, you can get Wi-Fi on your flight tomorrow.”

My heart skipped a beat … flight tomorrow? What on earth had happened to Southwest? My flight was Tuesday, not Monday. My guardian angel hit me alongside the head. “Go check,” it whispered in my ear. “Go check!”

Back I went to the bedroom and found the travel documents tucked in my husband’s carryon. There it was, in black and white. The plane departure was Monday, March 7, 9:15 a.m.

I have never had a panic attack. I honestly did not know what people meant when they said they had one. The next few minutes clued me in as to what they are all about. I could not breathe. I tried to tell my husband what I had done. I couldn’t talk. Finally, I got it out.

“Are you sure?” was his question.

“See for yourself,” I said as I handed him the paper with trembling hands.

“Well,” he said quite calmly. “First of all, start breathing and then call the hotel. See if we can come tonight. We will leave right now. The plane hasn’t left yet. Call the hotel, check in with the airlines, call the cat sitter and we are out of here.”

By 8:30 we were on the road. Traffic was light and the weather was clear. My guardian angel took care of all that. The rest of our trip was wonderful and totally uneventful.

Other outstanding events in the life of my guardian angel since I have been an adult are also quite vivid.

Back in about 1997, we were vacationing at Peggy’s Cove in Nova Scotia when I blatantly ignored a sign telling folks to be careful of the slippery rocks. I tumbled down a 20 foot rocky cliff narrowly missing my head with each bounce. I came out of it with only a few scratches and a broken finger. My guardian angel gave me a severe “tsk” “tsk”. However knowing that I am usually pretty good about obeying rules and regulations, I was saved from serious injuries.

Another time, I was driving down my driveway on a particularly hectic morning. We had been keeping some District Band students at our home overnight. I was making a turkey for an upcoming church event and I had to get to work. It was snowing lightly and we had just gotten a new mailbox.

The new box changed my line of vision of the highway and I did not see an approaching white car without lights in the snow. As I pulled onto the highway, there it was. I did some fancy steering and sent my prayers upward. “I don’t have time for an accident today,” I said. “I have far too much on my plate.”

That quickly, my guardian angel went into action. I missed the other car by about a 1/2 inch. That driver also did some quick thinking and ended up alongside the road. He wasn’t a bit nice and I could not really blame him. However, he was not hurt, I was not hurt, and since there was no damage … thanks to my guardian angel, we both went on our way.

A few years back, I think I actually met my guardian angel. I was headed for the Walmart shopping plaza and made a turn onto Route 30 from the side road by the industrial park. This time, I had obeyed all the rules. The lady coming from the west did not. As I made the turn with the green light, the other driver disregarded her red light and simply drove into the back of my car.

For an instant I wondered what had happened. I stopped the car and looked up to see a young man peering in my window. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered. “What just happened?”

“That lady drove into you,” he said. “Do you have a cell phone?”

I called my husband and the police and my insurance office where I worked at that time.

The young man, medium height, wearing a hooded sweat shirt and jeans, stayed with me, gave the story of what happened to the police officer and then disappeared. At one point, I asked his name, but he did not answer.

After the incident was over I thought it might be nice to thank the kind fellow. Since I worked at the insurance office, I pulled the file and looked up his address and telephone number. Both were a part of the police report. I sent him a thank you card. It was returned a few days later telling me there was no such person at that address.

I attempted a phone call, but, you guessed it, there was no such number.

Sometimes guardian angels do have to make themselves three dimensional and I will always be certain that is what happened on that day.

But three dimensional or simply in spiritual form, I am very grateful for all of the times mine has taken action. I was assigned a good one!

Photo by Fotolia/Sashkin