I believe in Angels. Most Christians do. Though some may doubt if they do interact or intercede for us. The Bible talks about them in the Old and New Testaments. I am sure it was the nuns in Sunday school that taught me most about Angels. The good ones, and bad ones. I learned we all have a guardian angel. The cartoons I watched as a child showed angels and devils sitting on our shoulders trying to influence us. Children’s books and wall art had paintings of angels accompanying children crossing over a bridge.
I know with certainty that they exist. I have had encounters with them. No, I never saw one, but they were without a doubt there. The first time (that I know of) I experienced my guardian angel in action was at 2 a.m. in Atlanta on the 10th Street bridge in 1987.
It was the night of my graduation from Art School. I should have been at my brother’s house at my party, but the ceremony ran long, and I promised an old friend I would drop by to see him before I left town the next day. He was a restaurant manager and worked till Midnight. We only got to visit for a short time before I realized how late it was and went home.
Traveling from Marietta, I came down I-75 and got off at the 14th exit. There was little to no traffic as I drove my Toyota Corolla up the ramp. I crossed 14th Street and went down and up the ramp to 10th Street. The bridge was covered with interstate signs running across it. The street was bright with street lamps. I could see the traffic light was red as I drove up the hill, so I eased off the gas as I approached the light.
The light turned green, and I began to accelerate up the hill. Just before I reached the intersection to turn left, I heard a voice with urgency say, “Slow down, you can’t see the car coming!!” With no time to think, I just followed the command. I geared down and began to brake. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I saw headlights coming towards me right to my door. I was about to be broadsided by someone in a truck, running the red light! I hit my brakes hard, and he hit his brakes. He swerved slightly nicking my bumper, stopped, then sped off. I was stopped in the middle of two lanes, totally stunned by my narrow escape from death. I thanked God profusely.
Then aware that some idiot almost killed me, running a red light, I chased after him to get his license plate number. After a block or two, I came to my senses and stopped my pursuit. Not too smart for a woman alone to go after a guy in a pickup truck at 2 o’clock in the morning. I stopped at the nearest gas station to examine the damage, which was minimal. Thank you, Lord, for saving me and my car!
Later I realized there was no way of seeing the traveling truck prior to the intersection. The large highway signs on the bridge blocked my peripheral vision as I approached the light. And the bright streetlights obscured the lights of his vehicle. Without that voice warning me, I would have been right in the path of that truck, running the red light. I would have been killed.
Another of my encounters happened in 1995. We were renting a two-story duplex in Dalton, Georgia. I was a stay-at-home mom, with a baby under 1 year old. I had not gotten around to installing a baby gate at the top of the stairs. Instead, I had a chair blocking the top.
We had just gotten up from a nap. I set him down off the bed and he tottled towards the hall. My son had started standing, but still crawled more than walked. I was still in bed watching EWTN (Catholic television station) and was praying the rosary. I paused to look over at him and saw he had pulled himself up by the ladderback chair. Somehow, he slid between the chair and the wall, reaching the top step. I jumped up to grab him but knew I would not reach him in time. I watched in horror as he tumbled head over foot down the middle of the steps. I screamed, “STOP HIM!” … Not “Oh No!” not “My Baby!!,” not even “Oh my God!” but “Stop Him!” And to my astonishment, he stopped. He stopped with his back pushed up against the wall, perpendicular to the steps. As if someone was holding him still. I stared down in amazement and stood frozen. Then, I felt a push, as if to tell me, “Well, go grab him!”
I flew down the steps and grabbed him in my arms. He was just smiling and laughing like he was having fun, oblivious to the danger he had been in. My heart was still racing as I held him for a few moments on the steps. I just kept repeating, Thank- you, Lord, Thank you!
I do not know if it was his guardian angel, or mine that saved him, or perhaps it was both. Five more steps and he would have hit the linoleum-covered concrete at the bottom of the steps. I replayed it over in my head and knew his stopping by himself, at the rate of speed he was falling, was beyond physics. We were part of a miracle that day. I cried for help and the Angels answered.
