Do you believe in angels?

 

       My father and mother were in their late seventies when they traveled to Barstow, California, to spend a week visiting my sister. When the week came to an end, they packed up the big white station wagon Dad drove and headed out. 

 

       Before they left Barstow, Mama made sure to ask Dad if he had gassed the car up. She asked because their gas gauge had been malfunctioning. He said that he had. So off they went and soon hooked onto Interstate 40, and rolled along. I-40 is boring as heck. Desert to the left, desert to the right, with very few stopping places between Barstow and Needles. Perhaps towns or small communities have sprung up since this happened but at the time there was practically nothing but weeds, dust devils, and blacktop. It’s been forever since I’ve been that way.

 

       They were about an hour out of Needles when the station wagon started to sputter. Dad pull off the highway and onto the shoulder. They had run out of gas. Traffic coming and going was sparse and the few cars that went by did not stop, even though Dad tried flagging them down. It was late spring, already hot, and they had little water with them. My mother did not bother venting at Dad. She just started to pray. For hours they sat there, waiting and hoping, enduring the rising temperature. Mama prayed. The sun was climbing and the inside of the car was becoming unbearable. There were no trees anywhere close by to offer shade.

 

     Mama said that for at least half an hour no cars were seen coming or going, and she was really becoming worried. They were in a precarious predicament. She continued praying even as sweat rolled off of her. A short time later she noticed a white car appear as if out of nowhere. For the most part, the interstate is flat. One can see for miles both ways. The white car was traveling on the opposite side of the interstate going west. The nose of the station wagon pointed east. She figured they were doomed to sit there for a longer period of time. As the white car drove by she noticed that the driver was looking over at them. Minutes later, and through the rear view and side mirrors, my dad told her he thought help was on the way. He watched the white car slow, then cross over the median, and pull up behind them. Dad got out and Mama turned to watch. She described the man as being in his late twenties and very kind looking. The men shook hands and then Dad came back to tell Mama that the young man had two gas cans and that he had offered to take him to the nearest gas station to get gas. The Good Samaritan also had a jug of water which he left with my mother.

 

       An hour later they returned. The young man insisted on pouring the gas into the empty tank. Afterwards, he shook hands with my grateful father, and waited by his car until my folks were safely on their way. My mother said she had turned all the way around in her seat to watch him. There was something intriguing about the young man. She watched him wave, then get into his car, cross over the median and continue on his way. She swears it wasn’t a mirage or the glinting of the sun, but as she watched a brilliant light swallowed up the Good Samaritan’s car. Folks who knew my mother knew she did not make things up. Her faith in God was strong and unwavering.

 

       As they drove away, Dad said, “He wouldn’t let me pay for the gas. I wanted to pay for his gas and for ours but he wouldn’t accept my money.”

 

     Mama believed wholeheartedly that the young man was an angel sent from God in answer to her prayers. She believe Hebrews 13:2, and in the power of prayer until the day she passed away and I believed every word she told me then and now. The recollection always manages to give me the chills. So yes, I’m one of those who believes angels walk among us.

 

     And no, I’m not one of them and before any of my relatives or acquaintances claim to be an angel in disguise – No, you aren’t. Just saying…