Living With Angels     Teresa P. Thompson   © Copyright 2002 by Teresa P. Thompson

     There have been many stories throughout the centuries which depict Angels watching over people and their loved ones; however those stories are just that---“stories”---until it actually happens to you.

     Oftentimes, things happen that defy explanation or reason, and we chalk them up as coincidences.  Many times we just call them predictions, as though “we” want to take the credit for mysteriously being able to foretell a situation or its outcome.

     Then there is the “Angel” explanation---where many of us believe that an Angel sent from a higher force has come into our lives to warn or tell us about something.  No matter how these things become possible, they do happen and I for one have chalked my experiences up to the work of “Angels.”

     My dealings with “Angels” began when I was 21 years old and about to face the loss of a very dear person in my life.

     My parents were divorced when I was very young.  Several years later my mother remarried and my brother and I were sent to live with our father and his parents.

     Growing up, I became very close to my grandfather.  I had always looked up to this kind gentle old man, and he was always an inspiration to me when everything seemed to go wrong in my life.

     I used to wonder how I would handle it if and when something happened to him.  I knew that I would not be able to cope with losing him, and I know that God knew that also and sent me a special messenger just days before my grandfather’s death.

     I began going through the strangest thing with waking up in the middle of the night crying for no reason at all.  I would go through the day in a daze.  I felt as though I had lost something or someone and had no idea what it was or how to find it.

     The day before my grandfather died I made the decision to see a counselor or a therapist.  I knew that whatever I was going through was too huge for me to deal with alone.  It had begun to drain every ounce of energy I had inside me.

     During the two weeks that I had been experiencing these feelings of dread, my grandfather had been hospitalized for minor surgery on his prostrate gland.  He’d had the surgery several times before and we felt there was no reason to worry about his recovery.

     I awoke that morning with the dreaded burden that I had been carrying for days even stronger than ever.  I was at the end of my ropes when I got the call telling me that my grandfather had come out of surgery with a blood clot on his lung.  The family was needed at the hospital immediately.

     I will never forget the feeling of relief when my aunt told me the words that I had always thought would destroy me.

     “Grandpa is dead!”   She screamed as I started to step off the elevator.

     Instead of my stepping off the elevator, she walked inside and the doors closed behind her.  I suddenly felt myself go to my knees as I froze into numbness.  Being closed up inside the elevator seemed to make the world stop for a few seconds until the doors opened on the ground floor.  I felt the terrible familiar feeling of dread gush through my body as I walked off the elevator.

     Then suddenly the feeling that I had been carrying so heavily vanished almost as quickly and mysteriously as it had taken over me.  It was as though a darkened cloud disappeared in front of my eyes.

     “It’s gone!  That terrible feeling is gone!”  I screamed through tears when I saw my brother standing at the end of the long hallway.   “I don’t feel that way any more!”

     Here I was rejoicing at losing that terrible feeling that had seemed to be weighing me down for days at the very moment that I should have been terribly upset at losing this dear sweet person that meant so much to me.

     It was later that afternoon that I realized what I had been going through all those days.  Something or someone had been preparing me for the worst day of my life.  God knew that I would not be able to accept my grandfather’s death, so therefore he had been letting me experience the grief before it happened.

     During the funeral I said my goodbyes to the most special man that I had ever known.  I watched as everyone seemed to be devastated by his sudden death, and I was silently thankful that God had watched over me so closely.

     There are times when I look back on those two weeks of torture and I thank God for what I went through.  Sometimes I even feel that my grandfather played a hand in helping lift the burden of his death from my shoulders.

     I will always attribute that experience to an Angel or a messenger of God.  Since that time in my life, I have not been the same person and through the years I have had several other experiences that make me truly believe there are “Angels Among Us.”

     Several years later when my now 17-year-old daughter was only eight months old I had another experience that left no room for a “logical” explanation.
     I was busy in the kitchen one afternoon washing dishes, and I had the stereo turned up rather loud, as I usually did when I was cleaning the house.  I had placed my daughter in her play-pen on the front porch.

     I figured there was no harm since I would be checking in on her every few minutes.  I often put her there to play when I was busy, and she had always been fine and content playing with her toys.  But this time would prove to be different---somewhat.

     It had not been five minutes into my chore when I suddenly heard a baby crying.  The cries were so vivid that my first instinct was that Shasta was crying, so I went to check on her.

     To my surprise I found my baby daughter playing quiet content as I looked through the glass storm door.  Her beautiful smile told me that everything was just fine, so I returned to the kitchen sink.

     I had no more than begun washing the dishes again when I heard the same cries; however this time they seemed to be louder and more intense.

     “I know that I am hearing this,” I thought, as I walked towards the front door once again.

     But just as the first time, my daughter seemed busy playing with her toy telephone.

     I returned to the kitchen, but before I had the chance to pick up my dish cloth, the cries began again---only this time the intensity was even greater than the second time.  The cries sounded like an infant in pain, so I anxiously rushed to the front door once again.

     My daughter smiled up at me once again and I surely thought I must be going crazy by now.

     As I walked into the kitchen I headed for the back door, thinking that perhaps someone had sat a baby outside.  But after searching the back yard, I was convinced that I was hearing things.

     “But I am certain that I heard a baby crying,” I said out loud, as I started to let my hand fall back into the dish water.

     It was then that I suddenly found myself racing towards the front door once again.  I propped the storm door open just a little so that I could get a closer view of Shasta.  Still playing contentedly, she looked up at me with her beautiful blue eyes as if to say “help me.”

     That’s when it happened---I felt the touch of something heavy on both my shoulders, and suddenly I felt something push me outside the door and onto the porch where I felt my body catch itself on the play-pen.  My hand instinctively went straight inside Shasta’s mouth and pulled out something.

     I felt my knees become weak from fear when I realized that I was holding a small marble in the palm of my hand!  The marble had been inside her mouth!

     After I pulled myself together, I learned that my older daughter and her best friend had placed a cup of marbles inside the play-pen and concealed them in under a blanket.  I had left the play-pen on the porch from the day before and when I put Shasta in the play-pen I failed to check for anything.

     I will always be thankful that I discovered the marble in her mouth before she swallowed it; however I have never been able to explain what it was that saved my baby that day.  I do know that if I had not heard the mysterious baby’s cries, I would probably have never saved my daughter.  It was those cries that kept me going back and forth to the door so many times.

     Yet, still that wasn’t what actually saved my child---it was the hands of someone much greater than any human that pushed me out that door that day and guided my hand into her mouth.

     There could be many explanations for what happened that day, but to me there is only one.  An Angel had to be watching over my daughter, and I believe it was that Angel that guided me to save her life.

     Although I never forgot these two experiences, it was several years later that I feel I had another encounter with an Angel.

     It was Christmas Day and I was cleaning up the mess from the packages and trying to get things put away so that I could start dinner.

     I suddenly had a tremendous feeling wash over my body.  It was as though something had been unleashed inside my heart—like a burden had been lifted from my shoulders.  I suddenly felt so happy that I began to cry as I went down on my knees I felt my hands go above my head and I began to praise God and thank him.  I had no idea what I was thanking him for, but I knew it was something that I could not see yet.

     I could feel the rush of happiness wash through my entire body as I cried out to thank him over and over again.  I must have stayed in that frame of mind for close to an hour when suddenly I was startled back to reality by the sounds of my husband’s voice calling my name.

     “We need to talk,” he said as I walked into the room.  “But let’s wait until tomorrow after Christmas is over.”

     During the remainder of the day and into the late hours of the night I wondered what it was that he wanted to talk to me about.  But it wasn’t until the next evening that I was to discover his surprising news.

     “I think we should just get a divorce.  We don’t get along and I may as well tell you, I have found someone else,” he said as he stared out the window.  “I know this is what you want too.”

     I suddenly felt the rush of happiness that had consumed me the day before float across my heart.  It was what I had wanted for such a long time.  Even though he had become one of my best friends, I was never in love with my former husband.  We married at a very young age—he because he was infatuated and myself because I wanted to leave home.

     By the time we were married several years we found ourselves with two daughters and divorce just did not seem like the right thing to do.  So we both waited until we had no other choice.  There had been many nights that I had prayed that God would intervene and end this marriage that I was certain had never had his blessing.

     God must have known that I would never be the one to put an end to the marriage that never should have been, so he must have put the love for another woman in his heart.  He had met someone that could love him like a husband should be loved and we ended up remaining very good friends.  All ended happily-ever-after for everyone, especially the girls.

     Even though at the moment, I had no idea what it was that came over me that day; I will always believe that it was an Angel that came to me with the message that everything was going to be alright.

     Many people may say that they do not believe in such happenings, but I for one do believe that we are “living with Angels.  And if we listen closely enough with our hearts we can hear their warnings and messages.

Story List And Biography for Teresa.

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