Of course Pat sees with the eyes of faith. Few of us ever receive more than that, but now and then our angels give us a little extra hug, and something physical occurs. Pat wasn’t thinking of that scenario last New Year’s Eve, however. Her daughter runs a catering business, and was serving a holiday dinner to senior citizens at their residence. Pat had volunteered to help.

“We were serving individual salads to the guests when I caught my foot on the leg of a chair and crashed down on my back,” says Pat. “The three plates of salad I had in my hands flew up in the air, and fell on some of the guests.” Several residents cried out in shock, and for a brief moment the resident supervisor wondered if she should call an ambulance. But despite the crash landing, Pat immediately got up from the floor. Not only was she in one piece, she had no pain at all. “I cleaned up the mess, continued serving, and never once felt an ache or pain,” she says.

As she continued to make the rounds, while smiling away the residents’ worry, Pat kept thinking about the fall. Although it might appear differently to the onlookers, she hadn’t landed hard, she realized. It actually felt as if she had fallen on something soft. A cloud? A pillow? A pair of wings? Suddenly Pat knew how she had escaped injury from the accident. “It was my guardian angel who cushioned my fall that night,” she says. “I feel very blessed that she made an appearance to me on New Year’s Eve.”

In fact, it was a reason to celebrate.

—I had the honor and privilege of being able to interview the last survivor of the World Trade Center bombing, whose story ultimately appeared in my book, IN THE ARMS OF ANGELS.  At the point when she was discovered, the rescue workers had given up on finding any survivors, and were absolutely astonished when they came across this young woman, bruised and broken but alive.  How had she survived those terrifying hours?  By holding on to the hand of a man named Paul, she insisted, a man who kept her spirits up and encouraged her to keep calling for help.  But there was no man anywhere in the pit where they finally found her—and no way for anyone to have gotten in or out.  I could re-tell her story.

—During subsequent days, people wrote to ask, “Where were the angels in this tragedy?”  And I was able to answer with conviction:  “Right there.  Right on the scene.”  I knew this only because those with angel experiences came forward to share.  A man who saw smoke breaking up as it ascended, and then saw each piece in the shape of an angel, carrying a human being home to heaven…a trumpeter playing at Ground Zero a few days later, attracting a curious crowd. And yet no one’s camera worked.  No one there was able to get a photo…..A man who was escorted out of the building via a nearby stairway that he had never seen before…  There are probably many stories like this.  I could research one or two.

—Or I could tell all of you how meaningful that day was to me personally.  The night before, at 11 p.m. our
daughter had given birth to our first grandson, and I was up practically the entire night thinking about him.  The following day, as my husband and I drove to the hospital, we heard the news of the crashes.  Of course, like everyone else, we did not know how far such horrors would spread.  Was this unbelievable happening the end of the world?
When we finally arrived at the hospital, it was on lock-down, and for a moment I thought that we would not see this precious child, not today, not ever.  But the reception room nurse took pity on us and let us in, one of so many kindnesses offered that day.  It was when I held that little bundle that an the answer occurred to me, in a quote I’d heard: “A baby is God’s promise that life shall go on.”  It was not the end of the world.  And yesterday, in the midst of painful memories, we celebrated an eight-year-old’s special day.  I could write about that.

But maybe, as we lower our flag to half-staff today, it’s enough to quote something from the angel book:  “The future holds exceitement and opportunity.  We may grow inwardly in new ways, emerge stronger, holier and more interested in ministering to the needs of others than to ourselves.  We may learn that the people in our lives are far more important than any personal achievement or possession.  Rabbi Harold Kushner once observed that all the complicated structuress we spend so much time and evergy creating are built on sand.  “Only our relationships to other people endure.  Sooner or later, the wave will come along and knock down what we have worked so hard to build up.  When that happens, only the person who has someone’s hand to hold will be able to laugh.”

See you next time.

—The Cayces have received many school supplies thanks to all of you, and recently they reached their financial goal so they could put a new roof on the gym–where they store all the clothes and furniture that they give away.  It appears that the roof will be fixed before the rain and ice begin, and again, that’s a miracle you helped to make!

—Speaking of miracles, Loyola Press has just redone my 15-year-old book titled WHERE MIRACLES HAPPEN.  I have added some new stories and taken some out too, and am hoping that those who missed the book the first time around, can take some time to read the updated version.  You can always find my books at amazon.com.  And now an oldie but goodie:

If any of you have ever suffered from migraine headaches, you will sympathize with MaryAnne Rodrigues of Bombay, India, who experienced them frequently. “They usually started in the mornings at work,” she says. “I would have to leave the office immediately and come home, as I couldn’t bear light or noise, or concentrate on what I was doing.”

One morning MaryAnne felt the ominous warning signs of a headache.  Her boss assured her that she could go home as soon as her work was done.  But it was one of those hectic days, and not until three p.m. had MaryAnne finally worked her way through the piles.  By now her head was throbbing, and she was feeling sick to her stomach.  She left the building and walked into the hot mid-day sun to cross the busy main road.

“The STOP signal was on but as I stepped on to the road and took two steps forward, I suddenly felt light in my head and could feel myself falling,” MaryAnne says.  “My bag and the things I had in my arms went sprawling across the road.” The signal changed, and MaryAnne saw a taxi speeding from the side street, attempting to overtake the slow-moving cars at the signal.  The taxi was heading straight for her!

But seconds before she lost total consciousness, MaryAnne saw something amazing.  Standing about four feet away, in the middle of the road, was a tall figure in a full white gown.  “His arms were lifted up, signaling the oncoming traffic to stop,” she says.  Then she lost consciousness completely.

According to witnesses, a crowd immediately gathered around MaryAnne, and someone sprinkled water on her face.  She revived quickly.  “When I came around I saw people gathering my things together but the first thought on my mind was:  Where was the taxi?”   How could she have escaped those wheels, heading straight for her head?”

But no.  There was the taxi in the middle of the street, stopped exactly where the figure in the white gown had been standing.

No one else seemed to have seen anything unusual, and tears sprang to MaryAnne’s eyes.  Not only had her life been saved, she realized, but she had been given a brief glimpse of the unseen world, the angelic protection that is always around us, caring for us with silent strength.  And she gave thanks.

.

And here’s our story:

Deirdre Mary McCormick, of Santa Rosa, California, was the fifth of ten children.  She had long curly brown hair, green eyes and a gentle disposition.  People were attracted to her beauty, says her mother Patricia, “but it was her sweetness that held their hearts.” The family was thrilled to have another daughter (they have seven sons), and Deirdre had many friends, a large extended family, happy days in St. Eugene’s Cathedral school and even a sideline interest—Irish dancing. An idyllic life, and then tragedy struck. “We were at her father’s company picnic at Lake Sonoma,” Patricia says.  “She was swimming with her brother, sister and cousin, and while trying to lift herself out of the water, she touched faulty wiring on the dock and was killed instantly.”  Deirdre was ten years old.

The entire school and parish of St.Eugene’s rallied around the grief-stricken family.  Food, care of the children, whatever was needed they gave, and over 800 people attended the funeral.  Despite the kindnesses shown to the family, Patricia was devastated.  She had just discovered that a new baby was on the way, and Dierdre would have been so delighted if she knew.  Now her daughters would never meet, at least not here on earth… “We are Catholics and we believe in the promise of eternity that jesus grants to all who follow him and try to live accordingly,” says Patricia. But faith can often be overshadowed by grief. And then, of course, someone was legally liable for the faulty wiring and perhaps they would have to institute a lawsuit.  Patricia did not know how she was going to get through all of it.

On the Monday after the first Thanksgiving without Deirdre, the children had gone back to school, Patricia’s husband Marty was at work, and the two preschoolers were still asleep.  Patricia read the newspaper, waiting for the boys to awaken, and enjoyed the few minuites of solitude. “About 9 am I sat back on the couch and put my feet up,thinking about the day ahead,” she says.  “When I closed my eyes,it was as if a tunnel opened and I was looking at my Deirdre. She was sitting on a beautiful,powerful white horse. I have never seen a horse like this before or since.”

Deirdre was wearing a lavender gown,gathered at the neck, waist,and wrists, and was barefoot. Her hair was in braids and she had a great big smile on her face. Patricia could see little tendrils of hair that had escaped from her braids curling around her forehead. She could see her daughter’s freckles and the small birthmark she had on her chin. Deirdre was healthy,happy, suntanned,and alive!

How could this be happening?  It seemed so real, and yet the vision was inside her, not outside. Patricia also realized that it did not seem that Deirdre was aware of her mother, but that Patricia was being permitted to look at her. “There was a child on the back of the horse with her,holding on to her waist,”Patricia remembers.  “There were children running along either side of the horse too.  Deirdre raised her right hand,and tapped the horse to get it to go even faster.” She didn’t seem the least afraid.

For a moment, Patricia stole a glance at the surroundings.  Tall grass, almost a golden shade, a perfectly-blue sky and a magnificent tree, a variety that Patricia had never seen. She tried to look at the children who were with Deirdre, but their faces seemed blurry. Perhaps she was not to know their identities.

As quickly as the tunnel had opened, it closed, and Patricia heard her boys running down the stairs.  Her heart pounding, she opened her eyes.  What had just happened to her?    She called Marty at work and tried as best she could to describe what had happened.

“I believe this vision was a gift from God because of all the prayers we received from family,friends,and even strangers who had heard about Deirdre,” she says. “We chose to forgive those responsible for her death because it’s what she would expect from us.  We have tried to honor her memory by helping others in her name.” They know they will see their child again.

–

—One announcement:  Last August a unique on-line business was launched, called Holy Postage, actual 42-cent stamps with stunning spiritual pictures on them.  The company calls it “custom, faith-based, real postage for U.S.-originated mail.”  The stamps are okayed for use by the post office, and they are even available in five languages.  What a great way to spread your own spiritual beliefs!  The only drawback is, of course, that you have to pay extra for them, but if you check out the site, you may not care one bit!
Check www.holypostage.com and see what you think.  And here’s our story: 

Microwave oven kilns allow you to fuse glass jewelry, process silver metal clay or fire ceramics in an ordinary microwave oven.  They’ve been growing in popularity lately.  Irene Watson of Colchester, Connecticut was firing some glass in hers recently when she noticed that it wasn’t fusing,.  “I didn’t see a red glow indicating it was working,” Irene says, “so I kept adding more and more minutes to reach a higher temperature.”    Finally, she saw the red glow, which meant that fusing was taking place, so Irene took the kiln out of the microwave, and set it on potholders, just as she always did.  “After awhile I smelled an odd odor,” she says, “so I took the potholders and threw them in my trash can in the garage.” (Irene’s garage is a separate shed-style building about five feet away from her house.)

Around two p.m. Kevin, a technician from her local cable company, arrived for his scheduled appointment to check Irene’s TV reception.  After a few minutes, he told Irene he needed to get some equipment out of his truck, and went out the front door.  Immediately he came running back.  “The trash can in your garage is on fire!” Kevin called to Irene.  “It’s almost to the house!”

The potholders!  What else would have started a fire?  Irene ran outside, and saw flames shooting two feet above her trash can.  It was plastic, and almost half of it had already melted from the heat.  Without a word between them, Kevin and Irene both raced to the shed, took hold of as edge of the burning barrel, dragged it to the driveway and dumped its contents  onto the asphalt.  “I ran inside again to grab my phone and the fire extinguisher,” Irene recalls.  “Fortunately I was able to get the extinguisher working, and it blew out most of the fire.  It was still smoldering, so I got a bucket of water from the kitchen and finished it up.”   She and Kevin looked at each other, both still stunned.  “All that afternoon I had been busy inside my house,” Irene says.  “I had no view of the garage from the room I was in, and wouldn’t have been aware that anything was wrong until the garage had gone up in flames.” And her house might have been next.

“Kevin,” she told the technician, “Your angels must have sent you to be here at just the right moment to notice that fire.  If you had come a little early or a little late, things would have turned out very differently.”

At the end of the day, as Irene told her husband all about it, she couldn’t help but be amazed.  She had been feeling somewhat stressed lately but having this close call was making her feel guided, guarded and protected.  “In the Bible it says that God spoke to Moses from a burning bush,” she told her husband.  “But today God spoke to me from a burning garbage can to let me know that I am watched over and loved.”  Whenever Irene feels down now, she thinks of the fire.  It reminds her that God truly cares.

These children are the poorest of the poor, and rarely have a chance to enjoy a party, and of course JoAnn has been the beneficiary of our angel group for many years.  If you’d like to get involved, just contact JoAnn at 403 South Second St., Thornton AR 71766.  Here’s the story:
 
Luke Baird, then fourteen, was running late to meet his best friend.  He was pedaling his bike at top speed on a fairly busy street (and, his mother Doreen says, at six feet tall, Luke could work up a pretty good head of steam).  As Luke approached an intersection, his bike chain slipped and jammed his back wheel, stopping the bike dead in the street.  Luke, however, tumbled over the front of the now stopped bike at a very high speed.  “He remembers rolling head to feet, over and over again, so fast that he actually rolled to his feet, only to crash to the street again,” says Doreen.  Luke finally came to rest in the middle of an intersection. A car had been approaching, but the driver was able to slam on her brakes in time.

“The driver, bless her, got out and helped him out of the street, and called our home because Luke was shaking so hard that he couldn’t hold her cell phone,” says Doreen. Luke’s older brother was the only one home, and he had just received his learner’s permit, but he jumped in the family car anyway, and drove to pick up his brother.

At the emergency room, doctors discovered that Luke, having caught his hand in a storm grate while tumbling, has broken several fingers.  His shoulders and knees were badly gouged, and he had some serious “road rash,” visible even a few years later. And since Luke had had back pain almost all of his life, it was assumed that some serious problems would show up there too.

But his head and face were completely protected, and he even still had his baseball cap on his head without any debris on it.  When Doreen finally saw him, she couldn’t help wondering if something or someone had cushioned his back too, for he was not having any pain.  As it turned out, he never did, and has had a normal life ever since.

How did Luke emerge almost unscathed from that spooky, fast potentially deadly fall?  Doreen thinks she knows.
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Since the weather was cold, Joseph had several layers of clothing on, and he tackled the manzanita bush with vigor, raising his axe up over his head, then bringing it crashing down onto the bush in a steady rhythm. Suddenly, as he raised the axe, it felt strangely light. That could only mean one thing. “Instantly, fear and a kind of sick feeling invaded me,” says Joseph. “I realized that the axe-head had slipped off the handle and was now spinning somewhere in the air above me.”

It’s amazing how many thoughts came to him in the course of about three seconds, he says. “I didn’t want to look up to see where it was, because I was afraid I’d find out and it would split open my face. I thought I could just run, but then I figured that with my luck I would run right into it. So I just put my arms over my head and ducked. The axe-head landed squarely on my spine.”

The impact knocked the wind out of Joseph, and it took awhile before he painfully got to his feet to examine the damage. What he discovered filled his heart with relief and gratitude, and he spontaneously gave the credit to his guardian angel. “Apparently the spinning axe-head had landed blade-down. It cut through all the layers of my clothing and then cut the skin right across my spine. But it went no farther. Another couple of centimeters and I would have been permanently crippled and probably would not have been able to persevere in the rigors of monastic life.” After that incident Joseph experienced a temporary sore back but a lifelong respect and love for the one whom God placed at his side “to keep me in all my ways” (Psalm 91).

Today Joseph is the Abbot of the monastery, and because I thought he would know, I asked him a question that had come up on a recent radio interview. The caller had heard that when priests are ordained, they are given a second guardian angel (presumably because their work will require extra help.) I wondered if this was true or if Abbot Joseph had ever heard of it.

“I do not know if this is true, though it would be appropriate and most welcome!” says Abbot Joseph. “ But I do have good reason to believe that I have two guardian angels all the same.”

About fifteen years ago the Abbot was praying before an image of the Mother of God in his little “cell” in the monastery early in the morning, with a candle burning before her. “While I was praying I perceived—somehow, though not with bodily senses—two angels standing next to me, one on each side of me, each with a hand on one of my shoulders,” he says. “They were silent, motionless, simply there, like solemn sentinels guarding the one God had placed in their care. Their strength was unquestionable, their determination firm, yet there was nothing fearsome or grim about them—they stood with tenderness and love as well.” The Abbot felt secure and blessed in their presence. After prayer, this awareness faded. He thought he might have imagined it all—but would it have made such a lasting impression?

He examined Scripture, and a few passages tended to confirm that more than one angel could minister to us. But somewhat later Abbot had an opportunity to make a little test. “A woman I know on the east coast is a mystic and has had visions of our Lord and is quite conversant with the angels,” he says. “I hadn’t told her anything about my desire to discover the truth about my second angel. She had asked me (I don’t remember anymore the reason for this) to send my guardian angel to her to bless her. I had never done anything like that before and wasn’t sure how to do it or even if I could do it at all.” (Editor’s note: Pope John XXIII was noted for sending his angel on errands!) “But,” the Abbot goes on, “I got this brainstorm: send the second angel to her! If he shows up, then it’s true, but if nothing happens, then there is no second angel. So that’s what I did. I asked my second angel to go to her and bless her.”

The next time the Abbot talked to this woman, she thanked him for sending his angel to her! “When he arrived,” she said, “I smelled the fragrance of incense like they use in Byzantine churches” (Abbot, remember, is Byzantine.)

“That clinched it for me!” he says. “So now I pray to both of my angels and invoke their intercession and protection. I look forward to the day when I can meet them face to face and openly converse with them and thank them for tirelessly looking out for me. For now, I will remember the quiet presence, the hands on my shoulders. And when we sing at Vespers, “Let my prayer rise like incense,” I’ll remember that it is the angels who bring our prayers to the altar of God (Revelation 5:8 and 8:3).”

© 2007 Joan Wester Anderson

Steve explained that despite his mother being 93 years old, she still visited needy people, and would bring food, medicine or anything else they needed. One day she had been in a house where the driveway wound through heavy brush and trees right into a very busy highway. Now, attempting to back out, she could barely see the oncoming traffic, and realized how difficult and dangerous the conditions were. “Finally,” said Steve, “it looked clear, and she gunned the engine and reversed out of the driveway.” Too late she realized that a huge truck was bearing down on her car, now halfway out in the road. She cried out to God.

Then Steve’s mother saw an enormous angel behind her car. The angel put its hand on the truck’s hood and slowed it long enough so she could completely back up, and then drive forward. As she did so, the angel faded away, but there was now plenty of room between her and the truck.

The elderly woman wanted to believe what she had seen, but was it true? And who would believe her if she told anyone? She wondered if the trucker himself had seen anything unusual. Could it have been her imagination?

At about the same time, there was a preacher living nearby. He was devout and loved the Lord, but he wasn’t exactly convinced that angels existed. For awhile, he had been asking God to instruct him, and if there were indeed angels, to show him in some way.

On a particular morning, he was driving down a highway that was always quite busy. Ahead of him, on the other side, he saw an elderly woman attempting to back out into the road. However, he could see what she didn’t—there was a truck bearing down on her. The trucker probably hadn’t seen her yet, but when he did, there wouldn’t be enough time to avoid a crash.

Then the preacher saw something wonderful! A huge winged angel appeared between the two vehicles. Gracefully, the angel reached over to the truck, now within a short distance from the car. The angel touched the truck’s hood, and it slowed immediately. That few seconds helped the other driver pull her car into the road, and proceed safely.

The preacher, stunned beyond words, went home and wrote up his experience, sending it to a popular angel magazine, where Steve’s mother read it and realized that there was indeed a witness to her miracle. Whether the two ever met, we don’t know. But they both received what they needed most.

Second story: Bernice Wade lives on the island of Newfoundland, off the coast of eastern Canada. In early August, 2001 she, her husband Gordon, and their two teenaged children decided to drive to Toronto, Ontario. They took an overnight ferry to North Sydney, Nova Scotia, and set out on the drive about 4:40 a.m.

Bernice was driving, and it wasn’t long before the rest of her family fell asleep. “I drove on and witnessed the day breaking,” Bernice says. “It was going to be a hot, bright, sunny August day and I looked forward to covering most of the 1,000 kilometers that day.” Bernice drove about another 45 minutes…and then slowly slipped into sleep.

“The next thing I remember was waking up and feeling both my arms vibrating and tingling, as if I had gotten a very strong electric shock,” Bernice says. “I realized instantly that I had fallen asleep but was at a loss to explain to myself what had awakened me. All I know is that it wasn’t anything earthbound or a normal everyday occurrence. It could only be Heaven-sent and I believe it had to be my Guardian Angel who saved me from having a terrible accident that morning. He must have grabbed both my wrists and squeezed really hard to awaken me, while steering me out of danger. I was traveling very fast at the time. My arms tingled for at least half an hour afterwards.”

Why didn’t Bernice drive off the road, or hit another car? She says she is much more aware of guardian angels now, and will never be able to thank heaven for saving the entire family—from injury or even death.

Yes, angels must certainly be on the road, even when we’re not aware of it at all. But drive carefully anyway. They have enough to do!

(C) 2007 Joan Wester Anderson

“I started to make a u-turn to come back behind them. All at once, the driver accelerated. The car was coming right at me!” Brian could not get out of the way in time. The car hit his motorcycle dead center on his left side.

Under normal circumstances, Brian should have been pinned, or at least badly hurt. But instead, without losing consciousness and feeling no pain at all, he was instantly aware of where he was, lying in the street on his back, BEHIND the car. How had he gotten here? He hadn’t flown through the air. “While I was still down, the driver started to back up towards me, probably to drive over me.” Brian drew his gun, and started firing at the car. It stopped, reversed directions and sped away.

Still lying in the street, Brian used his portable radio to advise the dispatcher of what had happened and the description of the car and occupants. He was still on the radio when another officer arrived. “Brian, are you hurt?” the second officer bent over him.

“I’m not sure,” Brian answered. “How do I look? Is there any blood?”

The officer looked his buddy up and down. “Not that I can see.” “Then I must be okay,” Brian said. He stood up, completely unharmed.

“To this day,” says Brian, “I don’t recall how I got to the rear of the car after the impact. After we reconstructed the collision, there just wasn’t any way it could have happened.” To say nothing of the obvious fact that after being hit broadside, he didn’t have a scratch on him.

However Brian believes that his Guardian Angel has been with him his entire life, and was certainly on duty that night.

(C) 2004 Joan Wester Anderson www.joanwanderson.com

One morning MaryAnne felt the ominous warning signs of a headache. Her boss assured her that she could go home as soon as her work was done.

But it was one of those hectic days, and not until three p.m. had MaryAnne finally worked her way through the piles. By now her head was throbbing, and she was feeling sick to her stomach. She left the building and walked into the hot mid-day sun to cross the busy main road.

“The STOP signal was on but as I stepped on to the road and took two steps forward, I suddenly felt light in my head and could feel myself falling,” MaryAnne says. “My bag and the things I had in my arms went sprawling across the road.” The signal changed, and MaryAnne saw a taxi speeding from the side street, attempting to overtake the slow-moving cars at the signal. The taxi was heading straight for her!

But seconds before she lost total consciousness, MaryAnne saw something amazing. Standing about four feet away, in the middle of the road, was a tall figure in a full white gown. “His arms were lifted up, signaling the oncoming traffic to stop,” she says. Then she lost consciousness completely.

According to witnesses, a crowd immediately gathered around MaryAnne, and someone sprinkled water on her face. She revived quickly. “When I came around I saw people gathering my things together but the first thought on my mind was: Where was the taxi?” How could she have escaped those wheels, heading straight for her head?”

But no. There was the taxi in the middle of the street, stopped exactly where the figure in the white gown had been standing.

No one else seemed to have seen anything unusual, and tears sprang to MaryAnne’s eyes. Not only had her life been saved, she realized, but she had been given a brief glimpse of the unseen world, the angelic protection that is always around us, caring for us with silent strength. And she gave thanks.

(C) 2003 Joan Wester Anderson www.joanwanderson.com