Everyday Canvas

Angels Are Everywhere

I sure do believe in angels. We have a whole group of them, here in Writing.com.

I do not, however, believe that there are bad angels as is written in fiction. An angel is an angel, in any form, shape, or species.

I have been touched by many angels in my life. I had a dog once, I believed, was an angel or was led by angel. In my family, some people are truly angels. Speaking of me, unfortunately, I think I have never reached the angel status. Aside from all earthling angels, I suspect, we really are helped by angels, as an incident proved it to me.

My husband and I were rescued by a real angel about three decades ago, I think. According to angel enthusiasts or those who think they know of angels, when you’re in a bind, angels materialize in a form you would relate to and help you.

One day we were driving on a dark road close to the town dumps. There were only empty spaces around with a closed truck company and a couple of warehouses in the horizon. Plus, nasty things kept happening in that area, according to the news, and right there, we had a flat tire. In those days, cellphones didn’t exist and there was nowhere to call from.

We pulled the car to the side of the road adjacent to the truck company’s entrance. My husband took out the jack, but because of the darkness, he couldn’t see the screws on the tire, let alone attach the jack. I had a tiny keyholder flashlight, which wasn’t enough. With all his positive points, my husband lacks every handyman skill. He was huffing and puffing and I was nervous, but I said a quick prayer. My prayers are not recitations of any scripture lines. I just talk to God inside my head.

About five minutes after I said, “Oh, God, please help us,” a black Mustang materialized from the opposite tiny alley that led to the dumps. That car came directly to us, crossing the road. A young man jumped right out of the driver’s seat and asked if we would let him help us. Then, hardly waiting for an answer, he changed the tire in a matter of five minutes or less, and he didn't need any light. My husband tried to pay him, but he shook his head and jumped in his car and left.

What was so weird was that he didn’t talk at all after asking us to let him help. In that area, people are very friendly and they always make small talk. Plus, why would a nice new Mustang come from the dumps on a dirt alley full of broken stuff, nails, and metal pieces?

“What a weird guy!” Hubby said. “Why would he reject payment? What was he doing here?”

“He is Godsent,” I said.

Several years ago, I was reading an article about angels, which said the rescue angels seem to come up from out of thin air, can take any form of a human, and do not talk unnecessarily. It fits, doesn’t it?

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Prompt: Do you believe in angels?