My True Angel Stories

The first time I met an angel I was five years old. Our house was really small, so my dad had hired workers to convert our garage into a family room. As a result of all the construction, my parents had the doors and windows open and I was playing outside. We lived on a major highway, and hitchhikers frequently walked along the road in front of our house. I noticed a man walking down the road, but instead of continuing down the road past our house, he turned down our driveway and started to walk toward our house. I ran inside and got my parents and told them a stranger was walking up.

My dad came out and met him. I remember him being an older gentleman, my guess would be 50's or 60's but it's hard to tell because he looked as if he had been traveling for a long time. His clothes were worn and he had a large pack on his back. My dad and he talked for a while. It seemed as though they were having a friendly conversation. I remember my dad tried to give him money and he absolutely wouldn't accept any at all. The only thing he wanted was a little food.

My mom is an amazing down home cook and had supper almost ready when the stranger arrived at our house. The man seemed content with the idea to eat a bit of food outside, but my dad invited him inside to eat supper with our family at the dinner table. I remember the stranger turned down my dad's invitation, explaining how he was too dirty and smelly to come in our home. My dad told him to not let that be a concern at all because our house was all messy due to the construction and workers tromping in and out any way. The stranger then gladly accepted my father's invitation and he enjoyed a hearty, home cooked meal at our family's table.

I remember my parent's enjoyed the stranger's company and conversation. They tried to offer him many things, but all he was interested in was eating and then heading back on the road. My dad did finally get him to take some clean, warm clothes and a new pair of shoes. This man just so happened to be my dad's size, a small miracle in itself since my dad is a very slender, but very tall man with small feet. In exchange for our kindness, the man gave me a tiny pocket flashlight which at five years old I thought was super neat.

He thanked us for our hospitality and then bid us farewell. My dad watched as he got halfway down our driveway, then he got distracted by questions from one of the contract workers. My mom was busy cleaning up in the kitchen. I watched as the man walked off. He got to the end of our driveway and then just vanished. Alarmed, I ran inside and got my dad. He bolted out the front door and down to the road. He looked both ways down the long, straight highway, but the man was no where to be found. My man walked back to the house with a knowing smile on his face. I asked a lot of questions, feeling quite spooked. That's when my dad told me about Hebrews 13:2, "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." He looked down at me and said, "Wendy, we just entertained an angel today."

I was a busy college student the second time I met an angel. I had a tiny apartment on my own. I was attending classes full time and working thirty-five hours a week to pay the bills. To celebrate my twenty-first birthday, I had taken time off so I could go home and visit my family. I had stayed the night with my sister and was driving back to my college town since I had class and work the next day.

It was a beautifully sunny spring day as I drove the four hour drive back home. I was on a long stretch of Highway 31, which is known as one of the deadliest highways here in Texas. The speed limit is 70 miles per hour; I had my cruise control set to 69. The heat from the Texas sun was causing blurry rays to bounce off of the black pavement. The blurry mirage obscured the view of what was in the road just ahead until all I had was a fraction of a second to react.

Just mere yards in front of me was a turtle, a rather large turtle. This stretch of road was single lane. A car was in the opposite lane coming my way, so I could not swerve that way. There wasn't enough shoulder to swerve to the right. I didn't have enough confidence in myself to try and straddle the turtle. Then in that fraction of a second I remembered a tidbit of my dad's driving advice. Here in Texas we frequently get a variety of wild animals wondering onto our highways. My dad told me to never risk my life or the lives of people around me to keep from hitting an animal. He told me if it's necessary to stay safe, just hold the wheel tight and hit the animal if it's unavoidable.

So, that's what I did. My right front and rear tires collided with the turtle's hard shell. They blew out instantly. Having two blowouts at 69 miles per hour in a lightweight Mustang caused the car to go out of control. I remember it skidding and me steering into the skid as we are all told to do in basic driver's ed class. I thought I had this under control until I felt my two left tires leave the ground. I was flipping. It felt like the world was in slow motion. I had an instant to cry out, "Protect me Lord." The roof of the car bounced off the pavement. I felt remarkably calm. God had heard my prayer and had covered me with His protective feathers.

My tires bounced on the pavement. I could tell that I had too much momentum flipping to be stopping any time soon. I felt the jarring smack as the roof of my car impacted with the ground again. I still remember with a cringe the horrify sounds of crunching, bending metal. Then my tires hit again, and in a horrible explosion all of the windows turned into a million tiny little projectile pieces. I put my forearms up in an X to protect my face. I felt the hot pieces of glass bounce off of every inch of my body. And that's when I noticed the car had stopped. I wondered in amazement how I suddenly stopped flipping. Then I noticed the left side of my car had hit a sturdy iron cattle fence. The strong fence, which was cemented into the ground, had stopped my car. "Praise God," I whispered.

For a split second I wondered how I was going to get out of my crunched up car. Then I heard someone say, "Wendy are you ok?" I was very confused. The car had just stopped flipping. There was no time for anyone else to stop their car and yet come to my aid. Not only was this woman immediately at my car, not only did she know my name, but she was standing at my right door the second the car stopped flipping. To have been there at that exact moment the car would have had to flip right over her head.

"Yes," I answered dumbfounded. That's when this extraordinarily petite woman ripped open my completely crunched in passenger side door. I undid my seatbelt. She reached in and pulled me out. She placed her hands on my shoulders and said, "I'm so glad your alright, Wendy."

Now several cars had stopped along the highway and wonderfully kind people had rushed to come help me. A woman handed me a cell phone, her hands shaking, and told me to call mom. I started to dial the number and then asked the kind woman where the tiny lady was that had pulled me out. She replied, "Sweetie are you ok? I'm the first one here." I looked around and the petite woman who had miraculously tore open my car door was nowhere to be found.

I called my mom at work. Since I sounded ok on the phone, my mom was thinking it was a minor wreck. A volunteer firefighter was now on the scene. I said, "My mom wants to know if I can drive myself home."

He grabbed the phone from me and told my mom, "Ma'm I've been a firefighter for 15 years and have never seen a wreck this bad. Her car is totaled. It rolled twice. It is an absolute miracle she is standing here." His intensity frightened me, and I turned and looked at my car for the first time. Smoke was rising up from the crunched up hood. The entire roof had caved in nearly to the seats, except for the driver's seat where the roof was miraculously unscathed. It was a horrifying sight. The woman who had lent me her cell phone broke down and started crying and told me she was expecting to find the driver dead when she walked up.

Thanks to God's protection, I walked away from this terrible wreck with scratches on my arms, a back injury which healed over time, and a mild concussion. I immediately knew how fortunate I had been. I knew that it wasn't luck that had me standing there safe and sound to celebrate another birthday. I knew God had seen me through this horrific accident. What I didn't know was who had ripped open my car door, called me by name, and pulled me out of the wreckage.

When I got to my parent's house I shared my story. My grandfather had asked me what the woman looked like. He got teary eyed as I described her. Then he whispered the name, "Jewel." I asked mom who that was. That was when she explained that Jewel had been my grandfather's first wife. They had never had children and hadn't been married long when she passed away from colon cancer. My mom told me that everyone had always said that Jewel was the kindest, sweetest, most remarkable woman that had ever met. My grandfather added that Jewel had always been like a sweet angel when she was living that it was only fitting that she be my guardian angel now.

My sweet guardian angel did much more than help me out of my car. Her soft voice calling me by name calmed and soothed me during a frightening and traumatic time. God had heard my cry for help and had sent me an angel to see me through.

My third angel encounter is not a story I'm proud of. It's one I'd like to forget and prefer for others to not know about. I'm choosing to share this angel story so that others may learn from my mistake.

A few days before Christmas I went grocery shopping. On the drive home I noticed an older women standing at the traffic light with a sign asking for help. Her sign stated that she was recently released from the hospital due to an illness and that the medical bills had put her in a bad financial situation. I had seen her at this intersection once before, but this time God was placing a burden on my heart to help her. I was in a hurry to get home. I had left my husband alone with our three small children, the youngest of whom was still breastfeeding. I was concerned that the baby was ready to nurse. I was worried that my overworked, overstressed husband was very ready for me to come home. I rarely have cash on me, since money is tight and we use our debit card for essentials. All I had in my purse was $4.25. I was ashamed at the idea of pulling up in my husband's Mercedes (which we bought with cash before having kids and before having money troubles) and offering this woman only $4.25. God was trying to tell me that that $4.25 would help and was better than offering nothing at all.

Another woman stopped and gave her some money while I was waiting for the traffic light to change to green. I convinced myself that I needed to return home, that my $4.25 wasn't worth taking the time to stop, that someone else had already offered assistance. All of these seem like reasonable arguments except for the fact that God was telling me to help this lady. God was telling me that it was my responsibility to stop. I am now more ashamed of the fact that I didn't stop than I am of my measly $4.25 that I had to offer.

After I got a mile down the road, God reminded me of Hebrews 13:2 and how I had failed to offer Christian charity. I now know that this woman in need was an angel. She was sent to test me and I failed. I am humiliated and humbled by the selfishness I showed that day. Following God's laws was easy when I was only responsible for myself, but as a busy mom of three it is much more challenging. But that fact does not release me from my duty as a Christian to help others.

I hope those reading my final angel story will take my tale to heart and recognize the next time they have the opportunity to entertain angels and will rise to the occasion.

I've since prayed for forgiveness and can only hope He sees fit to test me again and that this next time I will pass with flying colors as my dad did when I was five.