Do angels truly exist? This has been debated for hundreds, even thousands, of years. First you must ask yourself, "What is an angel?" The answer, no matter how much theology we try and drag into the issue, is that we simply don't know.
Or do we. I can't say I know what an angel is, but I will say this; I believe there are times when protectors show up at the perfect moment in time. Let me elaborate with a personal example, and believe me, this is 100% true.
The year was 1982. I had been married for close to two years and we were expecting our first baby. In fact, my wife was eight months pregnant. We lived in the Minneapolis area, and both my wife and I were in love with camping and the wonders of the north woods. For those who don't know, Northern Minnesota is truly magical. So we set out on a three day camping trip to an area about two hours north of Duluth, which is a very beautiful but rugged, even inhospitable area.
I know what you're thinking. Why would anyone go camping with an eight month pregnant wife. You're right, I was extremely stupid, but that's not the point of the story.
We camped and enjoyed this wonderful area of the world (to this day it was one of my favorite vacations ever). Now, to add insult to being stupid, we had an old, unreliable car. But you know what, in our defense everyone our age did back then. As we were coming south out of the small town of Two Harbors our car started jerking violently and making the most hellish kind of noise.
Have you ever been in such a situation? You know that you're totally screwed, but you're trying to maintain some sort of presence of mind. But, in the end, you know you are screwed. Every rational thought that you should have considered earlier runs through your head; why am I camping with an eight month pregnant wife?; why am I driving an unreliable vehicle?; why am I asking myself these stupid questions? Okay, I immediately knew I was stupid and irresponsible, but the fact is I needed to do something to fix this.
To complicate things just a little (or a lot), this was at a time when most people did not have universal credit cards; no VISA, MasterCard, nothing like that. And if you haven't already thought I was being stupid, get this; I had no cash with me!
So there we were, along side a northern road, no car, no credit car, no money, and an eight month pregnant wife. How many can say they have been in that situation?
Well, to cut to the chase, a wonderful man (old and grizzly like everyone up there seemed to be) stopped and picked us up. Oh, did I mention it was Friday night where even the back woods guys like to go out and have fun? Well, this kindly man took us all the way to Duluth, which was about a half hour away. I could say he was our angel, but that would be too simple. Well, maybe he was in a sense, but not the primary angel we met that night.
As I said, we didn't have a universal credit card, but we did have a Mobil card. No money to our name, but we had a Mobil card. The kindly man took us to the first Mobil station he could find.
It was late afternoon and the station was getting ready to close. We talked to a mechanic about 25 years old, and he made it clear he had a party to get to that night. "What's our choices?" we asked. "You'll probably have to spend the weekend'" he said.
Bummer. Suddenly we realized the value of money. What would we do over the weekend in a strange city with no money and an eight month pregnant wife? I know, I already accepted the fact that I was stupid.
Well, this young mechanic was not without sympathy. He took the tow truck and went and retrieved our car. This took about 90 minutes at a time when he was wanting to quit work for the night. Then he spent about twenty minutes looking at the car and determined our universal joint had fallen apart. You don't need to understand what that is other than to know our car was inoperable. He said even if he wanted to he couldn't get replacement parts until Monday. He wished us luck and then left for his party.
We often think about what we would do if we were destitute, but most of us have never experienced that situation. My wife and I went and sat on the curb, with nowhere to go, nothing to eat, not even able to make a phone call (no cell phones back then). Few people will understand what goes through a person's mind at a time like that, but in addition to the obvious crisis we were in, I had those tormenting thoughts of having failed my family. My first child may be born on a street curb in Duluth! It was scary and humiliating, but there was nothing we could do. Can you imagine that? There was nothing we could do! In this modern era we could not even make a phone call!
We sat and talked. It was, in an odd sense, a bonding time. My wife could have chastised me, as well she should have, but she didn't. We talked, we discussed options (of which there were none), and even allowed ourselves to laugh at our stupidity. And then he returned!
A very modest pick up truck pulled into the station lot, and out jumped the young mechanic. He had shaved, showered, put on quite a lot of cologne, and was definitely ready for a party. Keep in mind this was another 90 minutes later.
He seemed exuberant. "Hey, I swung by a junk yard on my way home, and I found the part you need. I think I can fix this in just a few minutes." And he did just that. Of course it was a messy job, so even though he had cleaned up, he got grease and grit all over him. In about twenty minutes he was done.
Unbelievable! Totally unbelievable! But there is still more. When he finished and tallied up the bill, he told us it came to $35. Now granted this was a few years ago, but not that many. He towed our car thirty miles, went to find a replacement part, and then fixed the problem, all on a Friday night when he was suppose to be at a party. Trust me, even in 1982 that was worth much more than $35.
I was dumbfounded. I wanted to do something special to show my gratitude; maybe give him a big tip, buy him some good whiskey for his party, anything at all. But the fact was, I simply had nothing to give. We offered our most sincere appreciation and then returned safely home.
I never saw or heard from that young man again, and I never even knew his name. He was just a grease monkey on a Friday night in the late fall of 1982, but he helped us more than anyone can imagine. It's possible that he even kept us safe and protected my first baby.
Was this an angel? Some would say no, he was just a nice man. Well, I don't know what an angel is, but this young man deserves angel status in my book. I hope somewhere along the way his kindness has been returned many times over.
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