I was driving home from one winter evening when I got stuck in rush hour traffic, and of all things, my car started to choke, sputter, and then eventually die. The engine wouldn't turn over at all, and yet the car is less than a couple of years old. Fortunately, I managed to coast into a nearby Arco gas station, and glad that I would not be blocking traffic. Also, I would have a nice, warm spot to wait for the AAA tow truck. Before I could make the emergency call, I saw a young woman walking out of the AM/PM Arco Mini-Mart, and it looked like she slipped on some ice and fell against a gas pump. So I got out of my car to see if she was hurt. When I got to her, it looked more like she had been overcome by sobs than having fallen; she looked really haggard with dark circles under her eyes. She dropped something as I helped her up, and I picked it up and gave it to her. It was a nickel.
At that moment, everything came into focus for me: the crying woman, the old station wagon crammed almost to the roof with household goods, and 3 small kids in the back---one was in a car seat, and the gas pump which read $4.95.
I asked her if she was o.k. and if she needed help, but she just kept saying "I don't want my kids to see me crying!" So we stood on the other side of the pump---away from the kids' view.
She began to tell me that things had become very hard for her. I asked her if she had prayed about her problem. That made her back away from me, but I assured her that I was neither one of those religious freaks nor was I crazy. Anyway, I heard myself telling her: "God heard you, and He sent me." After regaining her confidence and trust, I then asked her a few more questions to see how I could further help her.
She then told me her name; that she lived in Kansas City; her boyfriend had left her; and she had been having a really rough time trying to make ends meet. She knew she wouldn't have money to pay rent come January 1, and so finally, in desperation, she called her parents, with whom she had not spoken in about five years. They lived in California and they told her that she could come stay with them and they'll try to help her get back on her feet. So she packed up everything she and her kids owned into the old wagon. She told the kids they were going to California to visit Grandpa and Grandma for Christmas.
Again, like some strange force had taken over me, I took out my credit card and swiped it through the gas pump's credit card scanner, and I started to fill up her tank with gas. While it was refueling, the same strange force directed me to walk to the McDonald's next door where I bought two big bags of food, a big cup of coffee, and some McDonald's gift certificates for the young family to use later. When I returned, I handed her the bags of food and the other purchases. She gave the hamburgers and fries to the kids, who attacked them like hungry wolves, while we stood by the pump eating fries and continued to talk.
After the gas tank was filled, I gave her my gloves, said a quick prayer for her and her kids' safety on the road, and gave her a hug. As I turned to go to my car, she asked, "So, are you an angel or something?"
For some reason, I felt a lump in my throat and tears started to well up in my eyes as I told her, "Sweetie, at this time of year angels are really busy, so sometimes God sends ordinary people like me." I don't know where the words came from, but I said them. We gave each other another hug, and I hurriedly turned around to go to my car not wanting to look back and show the tears now streaming freely down my cheeks.
It was so incredible to be a part of someone else's miracle. And of course, as you might have already guessed, when I got into my car, somehow it started immediately, and I got home without any problem. But just for my own peace of mind, I decided to take my car to the dealer the next day to make sure everything is check all right. Besides, it was still under full warranty. But deep within me, I suspected that the mechanic won't find anything wrong.
At that moment, everything came into focus for me: the crying woman, the old station wagon crammed almost to the roof with household goods, and 3 small kids in the back---one was in a car seat, and the gas pump which read $4.95.
I asked her if she was o.k. and if she needed help, but she just kept saying "I don't want my kids to see me crying!" So we stood on the other side of the pump---away from the kids' view.
She began to tell me that things had become very hard for her. I asked her if she had prayed about her problem. That made her back away from me, but I assured her that I was neither one of those religious freaks nor was I crazy. Anyway, I heard myself telling her: "God heard you, and He sent me." After regaining her confidence and trust, I then asked her a few more questions to see how I could further help her.
She then told me her name; that she lived in Kansas City; her boyfriend had left her; and she had been having a really rough time trying to make ends meet. She knew she wouldn't have money to pay rent come January 1, and so finally, in desperation, she called her parents, with whom she had not spoken in about five years. They lived in California and they told her that she could come stay with them and they'll try to help her get back on her feet. So she packed up everything she and her kids owned into the old wagon. She told the kids they were going to California to visit Grandpa and Grandma for Christmas.
Again, like some strange force had taken over me, I took out my credit card and swiped it through the gas pump's credit card scanner, and I started to fill up her tank with gas. While it was refueling, the same strange force directed me to walk to the McDonald's next door where I bought two big bags of food, a big cup of coffee, and some McDonald's gift certificates for the young family to use later. When I returned, I handed her the bags of food and the other purchases. She gave the hamburgers and fries to the kids, who attacked them like hungry wolves, while we stood by the pump eating fries and continued to talk.
After the gas tank was filled, I gave her my gloves, said a quick prayer for her and her kids' safety on the road, and gave her a hug. As I turned to go to my car, she asked, "So, are you an angel or something?"
For some reason, I felt a lump in my throat and tears started to well up in my eyes as I told her, "Sweetie, at this time of year angels are really busy, so sometimes God sends ordinary people like me." I don't know where the words came from, but I said them. We gave each other another hug, and I hurriedly turned around to go to my car not wanting to look back and show the tears now streaming freely down my cheeks.
It was so incredible to be a part of someone else's miracle. And of course, as you might have already guessed, when I got into my car, somehow it started immediately, and I got home without any problem. But just for my own peace of mind, I decided to take my car to the dealer the next day to make sure everything is check all right. Besides, it was still under full warranty. But deep within me, I suspected that the mechanic won't find anything wrong.
<><><><><><><><><><><>
Sometimes the angels fly close enough
that the flutter of their wings can be heard.
that the flutter of their wings can be heard.
'Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee.
He shall never suffer the righteous to be moved'
He shall never suffer the righteous to be moved'