By the time Alice left to return home, it was starting to get dark.  More confident now, she hopped on the first bus, and got off at the University where she had to transfer to the second one. She waited an hour-and-a-half, as snow started to fall, but the second bus never came. She didn’t know then that on Sundays, the last bus on that route came at 4 p.m. She had missed it completely.

“It was getting very windy, and drifts were making streets treacherous,” Alice says.  “Walking home was out of the question because it was too far. I went to the Education building behind me,and was glad to find that the front door was still open. Now I could warm up, and call my dad to come and get me.”

However, that was a problem too.  Alice’s dad didn’t always come to his children’s rescues. “you got yourself into this, so you can get yourself out,” he would tell them.  And he would probably be angry that she interrupted her parents’ afternoon get-together. She hated it when he got mad…  But what else could she do?

Cell phones were not available yet. Instead Alice searched in the deserted Education building for a pay phone. Her father had never been on the university campus—how was she going to direct him, if he agreed to come?  She didn’t even have the address of this building. And where was everyone?  She had walked down several corridors and heard no noise of any kind. She turned yet another corner—and there was a bank of pay phones!  Relieved, Alice started searching her pockets for change.  She couldn’t believe it!  She had NO coins, only a transfer ticket for the bus. Now what? “Fear gripped me,” Alice says.  “It was completely dark outside by now.  I broke out in a sweat and started to pray, begging God for his help.”  Would she have to spend the night in this building, huddled in a corner?  Her parents would be worried sick when she didn’t come home.  A dime!  That’s all she needed, but it seemed impossible.

Alice prayed again, and had just started to cry when out of nowhere—-”and I mean nowhere!” she says—a young handsome man approached her. He was dressed in jeans, a long sleeve shirt and woolen vest. No coat in this storm, no snow melting from his hair…  He looked right in Alice’s eyes and smiled. “You look like you could use a dime,” he told her.

Stunned, Alice nodded.  How did he know?  And where had he come from?  She watched in disbelief as he dropped a dime into her hand. “Oh, thank you!” she said, turning immediately to the phone right behind her.  How had he arrived without her hearing him?  She looked back to ask him.

But there was no one standing there, no one walking away or turning down the long hall in front of her. The young man had completely vanished.  How….?  She dropped the precious dime into the phone slot and dialed her new home phone number.  Thank heavens she had remembered it! “Dad answered and I explained my problem,” Alice says.  “All I could do was tell him to look for the Education building.” Dad hadn’t sounded mad, not yet anyway.  But Alice was too amazed over the sudden appearance of the young man to worry about anything.

It took about 30 minutes before Alice’s father drove up in front of the building where she was waiting to flag him down.  Even though visibility was very poor, he had found her!”I was so glad to get in the car and sit beside dad,” Alice recalls.  “He could barely see the street signs, but we arrived home safely.”  Furthurmore, Alice’s father. didn’t scold her at all, or even complain about the treacherous ride.  He was just grateful to have her home safely.

“I know without a doubt that the Lord sent me two angels that day,” Alice says. “The handsome young man probably was my personal guardian angel, and I hope he is still watching over me.” The other angel? The most important man in her life, her hero, her Valentine.  Whether your dad is still on earth or home in heaven, don’t forget to send him a special Valentine this year.  Like Alice’s dad, he may not have always told you how much he loved you.  But he showed you—and that’s what counts.

—-I’ve been getting some raves on my new website/blog and I wanted to introduce you to the kind and capable woman responsible for designing it and teaching me how to use it (don’t snicker.)  You should be able to get around the site a little better, especially to the posted stories, comments to me through the CONTACT page,  and to join Twitter if you’d like to.  (Never mind).  The world of computers is so daunting for so many of us that we really need someone to be there AFTER the site is built, to answer our questions and give us the encouragement we need.  That’s why I’m nominating Traci Vanover as my earth angel.  If you’d like o talk to Traci about your own website/computer needs, just visit her website at http://PromoDiva.com, and tell her what you need.

—-We earth angels have a particular group that we take care of whenever we can—an area in Thornton Arkansas where the poorest of the poor live.  The Cayce family has been serving them for over 40 years. Here’s the long-awaited update on their Christmas giveaway.  I’m going to just print Joannie Cayce’s letter—it’s long but how could anything be better?

“We helped 726 poor children and hundreds of elderly have a wonderful Christmas. This year was a year of many miracles and wonderful blessings. The day after Thanksgiving Daniel went to the gym and starting pulling out all the used toys from the back of the gym that we had saved all year. Some people had mailed us new things we saved throughout the year also. We quickly saw we would be needing TOYS. We ordered 300 basketballs and prayed for a miracle.

“Then wonderful things began to happen.  Packages from angels started coming in and an angel at a church in Little Rock connected Scholastic Book Company with us. Scholastic Book Company handles all the school book fairs. They are going out of business in Little Rock. The manager called me and said she was looking for a charity to donate their store’s inventory to.  I had no idea of the miracle that was about to happen. I told her about our giveaways and how many thousands of people in impoverished Arkansas are helped by Cayce’s Charities. She had the idea to donate the books to several different organizations but while she was talking to me she felt God telling her Cayce’s Charities was the organization she was looking for.  Scholastic Book Company donated not just books but toys, gift sets, watches, candles, and many wonderful gifts. We had their new wonderful things in the children’s bags, and all over the gym floor for the poor to receive as gifts.

“The angels around the country sent enough warm socks, underwear, coats, tooth paste, tooth brushes, soap, shampoos and gloves for every child. Boxes of games, puzzles, books, colors, coloring books, trucks, cars and dolls came in and went into the bags.  Each time I filled a bag I thought about the sacrifice each angel made, and the love they sent with each kage they mailed here. I wished there was a way of letting each of you know how wonderful you made Christmas Day for so many children. Every child we helped had a wonderful Christmas. We also had food sacks for each family filled with macaroni and cheese, soup, crackers, spaghetti sauce, spaghetti, hamburger helper, cookies, hash, stew, chicken and dumplings, oranges, apples, jelly, canned milk, peanut butter, and lots of candies. These were the nicest food boxes we have ever had at Christmas. The donations we received for food made these bags possible.

“The day of the giveaway the lady from the Scholastic Company came with 10 others to help. They said they were in shock at the lines, the poor, and the poverty in south Arkansas they did not know existed. They were so touched by the experience and said it had changed their lives forever. We had many Spanish speaking families that showed up for gifts for their children and food. They could speak no English and we can’t speak Spanish. But one of the men that came with the Scholastic Company spoke Spanish and we were able to help all the Mexican families!

“We also gave away tons of used clothing, blankets, bedding, furniture, shoes, and much more. We are really starting the year off with empty gym tables, and full hearts. We thank every one that helped us make this Christmas a wonderful day where the poor child, parents, and elderly could feel loved and have a day of hope filled happiness. Thank you. Joannie Cayce.”

Thank you, Joannie, for allowing us to help God’s poorest.  Our hugs also go to Joanne who broke her foot during all of this! and has been using her convalescence to write thank you notes to all of us.  The Cayces can be reached at 403 Second St, Thornton AR 71766.  And finally, here’s our

story:

—She isn’t sure of the year, but Helen Kron will never forget the fires that kept spreading for what seemed like weeks.  She knew full well that she should not have gotten herself in this situation.  But when her son—who had been visiting her in Indiana—invited her to come back with him to Florida for awhile, she decided to go.  Surely the fires she had been reading about would be out by then.  And her son drove a large and sturdy van. They would be fine.

They were, for the first day.  But as they got closer to Florida, Helen saw the smoke wafting through what was usually a bright path.  Then as miles passed, she started to see the flames. “I was very concerned about these fires along both sides of the road,” Helen says. “From time to time the wind would pick up some burning item and blow it across the street.  That piece would start something else burning.”  Helen fell back on her remedy for fear—serious prayer.  “I began to pray that God would send rain,” she says.

Miles passed, and Helen kept praying.  “Oh Lord, give us a flood!” she murmured at one point.  And then, although she could hardly believe her eyes, rain came.  There was no warning—the deluge simply started as if a dam had burst.  Rain pounded the van’s windshield, poured on everything in sight.  The fires alongside the roads were quickly extinguished.  “Isn’t this wonderful!” Helen cried out in amazement.  Who would believe this timing?  She thanked God and praised him.  The rain kept falling.

Soon, however, the roads seemed to be flooding.  Helen noticed that several cars were driving through puddles almost half as high as their tires.  Traffic immediately slowed and cars began to stall.  “Mom,” Helen’s son said, “I can’t see the road—the wipers can’t keep up.  I’m going to have to pull off and wait it out.”  There was a parking lot near them, and he splashed into it.  The engine died.

Now what?  Helen had prayed that rain would come, and now she was praying that it would leave. The old saying, “Be careful what you pray for–you just might get it” popped into her head.  How did one ask God to stop the blessings?

Then, through the windshield on the driver’s side, Helen saw a bright light.  Was it lightening? This made her even more uneasy.  “Then I saw the figure of an angel,” Helen recalls.  “Oh! how beautiful she was.  She seemed fully grown wearing a white dress that was either eyelet or lace. She had tight blonde curls—like Shirley Temple when she was a child—and she wore a tiara.”

Helen could no longer see the windshield, as the angel’s light was filling the van’s interior. Her arms were outstretched, showing the full sleeves flowing from her dress, and she was looking at Helen.  “I felt as if she was saying that everything would be all right,” Helen says.  “There was no doubt in my mind what I was seeing.”

The vision lasted just a few minutes. By now the rain had stopped, and drivers seemed to be getting back on the road.  “That was a lucky break,” Helen’s son mused as he turned the key and the engine sprang to life.  “Look—the sun is even coming out.”

“Didn’t you see her?” Helen demanded, still awed by the vision.

“See who, Mom?”

Warmth flooded Helen.  She would tell her son in a few minutes about what had happened.  Right now she wished only to hold the miracle close to her heart.  “This memory is still very clear to me,” she says today.  “I praised God, and wondered ‘why me?’”  It was a privilege I’ll never forget.”

“Then we drove into Wyoming,” Mary remembers. “It had been snowing on and off throughout our trip, but suddenly we could see nothing but snow. The roads were covered in ice, and the turns were narrow. We didn’t have much money, so we couldn’t afford to stop for the night.”

It was Mary’s turn to drive, and she went very slowly. By 2 a.m., it seemed as if theirs was the only car on the winding road. Suddenly a semi came up from behind, tires kicking up a lot of snow. “I guess the driver was in a hurry, because he decided to pass us,” Mary says. “I had a really strange feeling, so I glanced over to my left, just in time to see that he wasn’t giving himself enough room to pass. His trailer was about two inches away from hitting us.”

Mary had no choice but to drive into the emergency lane. But it was too icy, and she slid off the road down an small embankment on the ice covered grass. She managed to miss the mile markers, and somehow lurch to a stop before hitting a fence. “I found out the hard way how slippery ice-covered grass can be!”

The family sat for a moment, in shock and relief. No one seemed to be hurt. But the truck had disappeared, and once again they were alone. Mary pushed away her rising panic. How were they going to get the car up the embankment and back on the road if, in fact, it was still drivable? And if they couldn’t, what would happen to them, stuck here in this isolated freezing area?

Almost immediately, however, another semi pulled safely into the emergency lane. A female trucker hopped out, just an ordinary person, Mary says, “but she calmed us down right away. She and my husband pushed the car up onto the road while Mary steered. In a matter of moments, their problem was solved.

“Oh, thank you!” Mary exclaimed. “If you hadn’t come along…”

“No problem!” the trucker beamed. “I’ll radio behind so other truckers can watch out for you, in case anything else happens.” With a wave, she pulled away.

The Joyces pulled away too, both silent for the moment. There was something a little…odd about this experience, but neither knew exactly what it was. Mary’s husband finally spoke. “You know, she did most of the pushing.”

“She did? But she didn’t look very big…”

“The car kept sliding on the ice, especially when we went up that little embankment. I could hardly move it.”

The next few hours passed without a problem. And then, as the family neared Evansville, Wyoming, the car’s alternator went out. Lights started dimming, and they slowly lost power. Up ahead was a freeway exit, and Mary’s husband turned into it. By now, the power was completely off, but somehow they glided into town. There was a McDonald’s down the road, closed and darkened,

“We waited a while for them to open,” Mary says, “and then I hiked down the street to get some food (our emergency snack supplies were just about gone).” Mary also called her in-laws from the McDonald’s pay phone. They assured her they would pay for the car expenses, but how long would it take? And where were they going to stay while they waited? It was so cold here, and what she hadn’t mentioned to her in-laws was that they had only about twenty dollars left…. She blinked back tears.

Just then, an elderly man dressed in cowboy garb, came up to the pay phone. “I heard you talking about your car,” he said, without introducing himself. “I’d like to help, if you’d let me.” With that, he handed Mary a little roll of money. “This should be enough to feed your family and get you all out of the cold.”

“But…how will I pay you back?” Mary asked, startled.

“Just pass it on,” the man answered.

Mary accepted the little wad, but didn’t count it until she was back to their car. “After I was settled I counted the money and saw that he had given us $70,” which was a lot of money in those days. How had he known how much they needed it? Immediately, they rented a motel room and had the car towed. It truly was yet another blessing…

…Because a larger storm followed on the heels of this one, and the freeway was closed in Wyoming, and through much of Utah, causing many accidents (including fatalities). If they hadn’t broken down, they would have been continued on, and been caught in it all. Instead, the car was ready on the day the roads reopened, and the Joyces arrived safely home.

“I’m not sure how many people would consider our story angelic,” Mary says today. “But I do. If nothing else, it shows that human kindness still exists and God works in mysterious ways.” Mary never wastes an opportunity to help someone else either. With Be An Angel Day approaching soon (August 22), we might all start lpaying it forward.

(C) 2005 Joan Wester Anderson www.joanwanderson.com

“Sure.” Mary Beth’s only fear was driving in the rain. But on this wintry day, weather conditions on the Indiana turnpike were cold but dry. In a moment, Wayne had fallen asleep, and she was driving the huge rig all alone, completely in control.

Well, not really, Mary Beth reflected as she stayed safely in the right lane. It had been a long time since she had felt in control of anything, much less a truck, for life had been difficult lately. Where was God, she often wondered. Did He see? Did He care? With Christmas approaching, she longed for a deeper faith.

Suddenly she tensed. Was that rain on the windshield? Mary Beth’s heart began to pound as the sky darkened and heavy drops pelted the truck. She couldn’t drive now–she’d have to wake Wayne! Yet she seemed paralyzed with fear.

“Hey, Metropolitan!” Suddenly a man’s voice on the CB radio broke into her terror. “You’re looking pretty good!” Mary Beth’s truck had a “Metropolitan” logo.

“Thanks– where are you?” she responded shakily.

“I’m that Ryder/Pie that just pulled ahead of you,” the man answered. Strange. Mary Beth always paid careful attention to trucks passing her in the left lane, so she could steady her vehicle as they cleared the air space. Yet she hadn’t seen Ryder/Pie at all.

Where was he? Mary Beth scanned the road ahead but there was no truck in view. Well, rain was impeding her visibility now. Perhaps she had missed him. “What’s going on, Ryder?” she asked.

The two lapsed into casual conversation, the kind CBers often exchange. Yet Mary Beth sensed an unexpected warmth underneath the man’s words. A wonderful kind of peace seemed to be flooding the truck cab. Slowly, despite the storm, she felt her fear fade, her spirit lift.

Hours passed, and the two continued to talk. They covered the world’s problems, their own concerns and philosophies, even comments on the weather, but… It was odd, Mary Beth realized, that although the trucker indicated he was just in front of her, she couldn’t see him at all. And why could she hear
only his voice? Usually, other drivers interrupted CB conversations or joined them. But today she and her invisible companion seemed in a world all their own, as if everyone else was on another physical and emotional frequency.

Eventually the rain diminished. “I’m turning off at the exit just ahead of you, Metropolitan,” the man said. “Take care now.”

“I will,” Mary Beth answered, her heart full. “And… thanks.” Mary Beth was approaching the exit too, and had a wide, unrestricted view. Now she would see Ryder/Pie as he went down the ramp. She watched for him, and watched… But no truck ever appeared.

Christmas that year was a joyful day, filled with promise. Life might be hard sometimes, Mary Beth knew now. But God–and His messengers–always had her in view.

(c) Joan Wester Anderson 1994 Originally published in Woman’s Day Magazine

The women left early in the morning, with Denver’s temperature hovering at about 10 degrees. By the time they reached Kansas, however, the mercury had dipped to 20 degrees below zero. The women had intended to drive straight through to St. Louis, but as dusk fell, they reconsidered. “I’m really worried about this intense cold,” Cynthia told Sue. “What if something happens to the car? We’ll be stranded on a lonely highway tonight, with no towns or even farmhouses to shelter us.”

Sue knew how sparsely populated Kansas was. “Maybe we should find a motel,” she suggested..

“Maybe, but we’re only a few hours away from St. Louis, and the weather’s bound to be better,” Cynthia said. It was a tough decision, but the women prayed about it, asking God to protect them. They then decided to press on. At 2 a.m., cold, hungry and triumphant, they pulled up in front of Cynthia’s parents’ home.

Their vacation was filled with laughter, love and reminiscing, and Cynthia and Sue were truly sorry when it was time to drive back to Denver. However, the temperature had risen to about thirty-eight degrees in St. Louis, so as they set out, they felt far more confident. “At least going home will be easier than getting here!” they told each other.

Shortly after leaving St. Louis, however, the women drove into a foggy mist, which thickened as they continued. Since it was daytime, they were able to cross most of Missouri without mishap, but as dusk fell and they reached Kansas, both women grew apprehensive. Once again the temperatures were falling, and because of the continuing fog and mist, the roads could easily become icy and treacherous. Again, they considered their options, prayed, and decided to go as far as they could. As darkness blanketed them and they stayed tuned to the car radio, however, they wondered if they had made the right decision. Traffic was so sparse now that in spots, they seemed the only car on the road. And every time a weather bulletin was issued, things sounded worse. “Listen to that,” Sue frowned after one radio report of a road closure. “Isn’t that road at the next town?”

Cynthia looked at the map by the light of a tiny flashlight. “Yes, it is. Maybe we’ll have to stop here.” The town sign loomed ahead, and Sue hit the brakes, bracing for anything. But, oddly, they saw no road closures, and no state troopers flagged them down. Perhaps those difficult driving conditions were somewhere else? The fog and mist continued, so dense they could barely see the road, and the temperature continued to drop. Yet the pavement directly in front of them stayed dry.

Soon, however, they heard another bulletin, this one warning of hazardous ice, right where they were headed. “Now we’re in for it,” Sue murmured, slowing and keeping a close watch on the pavement. Yet…where was the ice? Once again, they passed the danger area with no problem. Despite the freezing mist all around, the road in front of them was dry.

They drove the next several miles in silence. “Mom,” Sue finally spoke. “Are you getting a funny feeling about all of this? As if something just…doesn’t fit?”

“I certainly am,” Cynthia agreed. She knew fog and mist were unpredictable; one area could get icy while just a few miles away, it could be clear. But they had been driving for several hours in the same chancy conditions. And despite the weather warnings, the stretch of road just ahead was always dry and safe. “It’s as if we’re enclosed in a protective envelop,” she said to Sue. Her daughter smiled. “That’s just the way I felt,” she said.

They drove on, thanking God as each mile passed. Just an hour out of Denver, the mist dried up and the clouds parted. “Look,” Sue smiled. “Stars.” The worst was over.

Days later, Cynthia read of the traffic mishaps that occurred all over the route they drove that night. But they had been kept safe. Why? “We’ll never know for sure,” she says. “But didn’t God give His angels charge over us?”

(C) 2002 Joan Wester Anderson www.joanwanderson.com

“As I took a break, with tears running down my face, I was thinking that I will never be able to shovel out the mound the town plow had left across the bottom of the driveway,” she remembers. “I stood there looking at all I still had to do, and then saw headlights coming from a few blocks away. They

turned up my road and as they came closer I could see it was a pickup truck with a plow on the front. I thought to myself, ‘boy, someone is lucky to have that truck coming to them.’

“Well, that truck went past all the other houses and stopped in front of mine. It cleared snow that was blocking the whole bottom of my driveway! It then went up to the corner, came back down, and plowed more across the bottom. I was so shocked I just stood leaning on my shovel looking at ‘them.’

There were two men in the truck, Joann says. One with the “whitest” hair who was driving and one with stark black hair sitting in the passenger seat.

When they finished clearing the bottom of the driveway, they backed up a little, both looked at Joann and smiled, waved, and then drove away. Joann never approached them or spoke to them. She seemed to be rooted to her spot.

“As I watched them drive away, I noticed that the truck was solid white with no commercial writing on it. It was a strange truck as the back almost looked more like a boat than a truck. I had never seen that truck before, nor have I seen it since. In the 27 years I have been a homeowner I have never had anyone come and plow my driveway out like that. I felt very peaceful, and an overwhelming feeling that I was not alone settled over me.”

We know we are not alone. God proves it to us every day.

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

She lost control, and several people watched in horror as the SUV spun and began to sink with the woman trapped inside (all her windows were shut).

Four or five men raced to help her; one, a physician, kept hitting her closed window with a stick, to no avail. The vehicle went under, and she seemed to be gone but then, a minute later, one of the men managed to catch up to the floating car, reach through the window and grab her arm. Together, the men pulled her through the window and saved her life.

However, the news report states, when the car was towed from the water, all four windows were still closed. It is unclear how they opened enough to let the lady out, and then closed again. But we know, don’t we?

http://www.nbc4.tv/print/9749904/detail.html

www.joanwanderson.com

As the winds blew, Beth sat and prayed, and wondered if God knew what He was doing. She tried to remember that “if He brings me to it, He will surely bring me through it.” Hopefully, although she saw no signs, angels were posted around their family’s homes.

Eventually the storm passed, and Beth was amazed to discover that her trailer seemed relatively untouched. And they also had electricity, although many of their neighbors did not. “This was a TRUE blessing because my Dad would not have survived the heat,” Beth says.

But perhaps the best angelic answer occurred when the three of them opened Beth’s door and stepped outside to check the other trailer. For some time it had needed a new roof, but Beth’s parents could not afford to provide it. Now, all three looked with awe at the second trailer. It had no damage along the sides or, as they later discovered, inside. But a tree had fallen completely through the roof, making it un-fixable. The insurance company would give them a new one, at no expense.

We cannot infer that prayer works magic. There are plenty of hurricane victims who prayed, yet lost so much. And there are others who never thought of asking for angelic aid, but came out relatively unscathed. This is part of the mystery of life that we will understand only when we reach heaven.

But as many people know—and more learn every day—it never hurts to ask. “When you think God doesn’t hear you,” says Beth, “let me assure you that He does, just not in the ways you might expect.”

(C) 2006 Joan Wester Anderson www.joanwanderson.com

It was after 2 a.m. when they started home in their pickup truck. But blowing snow obscured their vision, and Phil took a wrong turn off the highway. The pickup swerved into a ditch and stopped, as if the wheels were caught. Phil couldn’t dislodge it.

“I’ll walk back to the highway. I think we passed a gas station back there,” Phil said. “But the wind is terrible—you’ll freeze!” Kathy objected.

“Well, we can’t stay here. We’ll get hypothermia or frostbite.” Phil jumped out of the truck. Frightened, Kathy thought of their two small children at home with a babysitter. Why had she and Phil put themselves into this dangerous situation?

Intense cold penetrated the truck’s interior. Please God, get us out of this, she prayed.

Eventually Phil returned, with bad news. “The station’s open but its tow truck won’t start, and there aren’t any others available,” he told Kathy. “We’ll have to walk back.”

In high heels? In these huge drifts? And how could Phil endure the trip again? His eyelashes had frozen and his face was dangerously red from the wind.

Then, unexpectedly, light spilled into the cab. Ahead of them stood a tow truck! Where had it come from? But Phil was too grateful to ask questions.

Getting out, he called to the driver, who hooked up the pickup. “What a lucky coincidence,” Phil said as he hopped back into the truck.

The tow truck started to pull, and the pickup lurched, then slid precariously toward the right. “Phil, we’re falling—we’re going to turn over!” Kathy screamed.

Suddenly she heard men shouting—five, six of them behind her—and bright headlights illuminated the dark scene. “Here, I’ve got it!” “Okay?” “Give it a push!” Stunned, Phil and Kathy listened to the babble. They had seen no lights approach. Where had all these men come from, especially all at once?

Hands seem to actually lift the pickup under them, and soon it was free. Immediately the lights behind them went out.

“How…?” Phil was out of the pickup again, but there was nothing to see now but the tow truck. No army of volunteers, no receding headlights or engines running in the frigid night… Just a driver, whose arrival had, itself, been inexplicable, and who told Phil he knew nothing of the men or how they had arrived.

The couple drove home, lost in thought. “Kathy,” Phil finally spoke, “I think God just sent us a bunch of angels.” Kathy thought so too. Christmas was over. But heaven had saved the best gift until last.

© 1993 Joan Wester Anderson Originally published in Woman’s Day Magazine

Over and over, the ignition refused to catch. Finally, it did, but the car chugged only to the middle of the icy and abandoned street before it died. Donna had no cell phone. Frightened and cold, she looked around. She was alone.

But no! Suddenly, an elderly man was knocking on her window. “Try it again!” he called.

Donna was startled, but surprisingly, not afraid. “Where did you come from?” she asked him through the glass.

“I’m right behind you,” he answered. “Try the car again.”

She turned to look and sure enough, there was his car. Her windows were foggy, but how had she missed seeing or hearing him pull up? She turned the key in the ignition one more time. The engine roared to life.

“I’ll follow you home,” the man told her, and walked back to his car.

Strange. He hadn’t even asked where she lived. She was only fifteen minutes away, but he surely didn’t know that. And he was too old to help her if she slipped into a ditch. But Donna was too cold and worried to think about anything but getting home, and relieving her mother’s certain concern.

Slowly, carefully, Donna drove home, and true to his word, her Good Samaritan stayed behind her, even pulling up behind her into the driveway. Donna saw her mother watching out the window, and without looking back, she jumped out of the car, staggered across the snowy lawn and into the warmth of the hallway. “Where have you been?” her mother cried in relief.

“The car wouldn’t start right away, but a nice older man followed me home, all the way into the driveway,” Donna explained. “Wait—I need to thank him before he goes!”

Her mother gave her a strange look. “No one followed you home,” she said. “I’ve been right here, and I saw you pull into the driveway, and get out of the car—alone.”

The two women looked at each other. Did angels work in snowstorms?

Donna never worried about winter driving again.

(C) 2002 Joan Wester Anderson www.joanwanderson.com