A Glimpse of an Angels

She loved the idea of angels. But did she really believe in them? I’ve always loved the idea of angels: messengers of God who guide and protect every human life; offer forgiveness, comfort, grace and aid; and love us as God does, unconditionally. So I was thrilled when I got hired at Angels on Earth almost 10 years ago.From my first day on the job, I felt like God intended for me to work at this magazine. But one evening on my subway ride home from the office, I wondered silently: Do I really believe in angels?I enjoyed that readers got so much reassurance and peace from our stories about angels, and I felt honored to be a part of bringing them those stories. And I related to what readers shared: feeling God’s presence in times of crisis, hearing words of comfort and courage, having help appear out of the blue.I knew these were all signs of God at work in our lives. But when a reader would write in about actually seeing an angel, a figure in a white robe with large feather wings, I’d often set aside their hand-written note and furrow my brow.I believed our readers had seen something?I knew they weren’t just daydreaming or imagining these visions. But invisible creatures with wings? Was that really what God’s messengers were like?Then one day I was in my bedroom at home working on a project, so engrossed that I hadn’t looked away from the computer screen for some time. Suddenly I sensed a presence behind me, and I glanced up to see if someone, maybe my husband, had entered the room.Over my writing desk, which faced a wall, hung a large mirror. When I looked up at the mirror I could always see who was walking in the bedroom door behind me. But when I looked into the mirror that day I gasped.Standing just behind my desk chair was an angel: tall and graceful. She was wearing a long white robe and had hair that fell in ringlets around her shoulders.A golden rope was at her waist, and she possessed two enormous wings. The sheer size of them struck me. Her wings looked so strong, so powerful. And they were covered in hundreds of white feathers.I didn’t move a muscle. I sat there still as a deer surprised in the woods, watching this otherworldly being in the mirror as she slowly floated out of view.The whole experience lasted about 30 seconds. Once I felt able I turned around in my chair. The room was empty, but I now knew that I was never really alone.That experience ignited my passion for all things angels. Suddenly I wanted to read every book I could about angels. I began collecting angel figurines and jewelry.I started assuring friends and family that angels were watching over them. And the stories I worked on at Angels on Earth had a deeper meaning for me.They say that angels appear in our lives at pivotal moments: when we need encouragement or healing or transformation.The day I saw my angel I was playing around with an idea that, years later, would become my new guided journal, Heaven on Earth.The chapter about angels is a wonderful place to record your own interactions with angels: both divine angels and human earth angels like friends, family and even strangers.Angels surround each one of us every day protecting, nurturing and inspiring us, whether we see them or not. Take my word for it: Angels are magical, but they are also very real.

THE GLORY OF SPRINGBy Kathy WhirityI

I opened up the door this morning and did a little jig.I smiled at the falling rain even though the drops were big.Those drops didn’t discourage me as they fell on the window pane,Before the dawn of sunshine I knew there’d be some rainFor now the barren gardens are floating in muddy gloom,Soon they’ll house the buds from where the flowers bloom.We’ve looked forward to a grand awakening that is happily in the works,A burst of new life from where the bare tree limb lurks.The snow has all melted, Jack Frost has been sent on his way,Though we thought we’d never see it we welcome Spring this day.I saw a robin perched on the roof, perhaps scouting out a nest,I placed shedded dog hair on the fence post, mama robin will do the Rest.Soon tiny tots on swing sets will be reaching for the sky,Filled with wonder and laughter, the magic won’t pass them by.The glory of Spring and the awakening it brings,Is the joy in the tune that the bluebird sings.It is a chance for us to improve on the days that lie ahead,To make sure the bounty of our blessings keep our hearts and souls wellFed.Gardener’s thumbs will once again regain their color green,While blooming shades of purple, pink, and red will reign supreme.Spring nights are for young lover’s walking hand and hand in the park,Beneath the starry skies, a chance to dance in the dark.Every Spring season we are rewarded with this glorious gift of rebirth,And reminded of our own new beginnings every Springtime on this earth.Young dreams will be carried along on warm soothing breezes,Sweet recollections of life anew and all that pleases.So, I’m enjoying the rhythm of the gentle falling rain,it’s nature’s way of saying there is so much for us to gain.These wonderful days of Spring will be bursting out in song,A sweet melody of promise that carries our hopes along.AND THAT’S THE GLORY OF SPRING!

THE FIRST FLOWER OF SPRINGBy Joseph J. MazzellaI

smiled when I saw the first flower of spring the other day. A lone Blue Bonnet had popped its head through the ground and was looking around on a cool, April morning. I wasn’t sure what had made it finally decide to end its long, winter’s sleep. Perhaps it had noticed that the ground around it was no longer frozen, and it had felt the warmth of the sunshine finally pushing the temperatures into the seventies.Possibly, it had heard the songs of the birds singing that spring had arrived and it was time for the world to awaken again. Maybe the roots of the trees had whispered to it that it was now safe to come out and that their own limbs were already budding.Whatever the reason, it was a joy to see the little guy, soaking up the light and calling out to its fellow flowers to join in the celebration of life once again. I know that it will soon be joined by other Blue Bonnets, Buttercups, Tulips, Daffodils, and Dandelions… And the air will be full of butterflies, dancing above them all. And shortly after that, the meadows will be full of growing grass and the forested hills will be awash in bright, green leaves. The mountains of my home will once again be alive with the glory of God’s creation.We, too, are a part of that creation, but unlike the flowers in the field, we have the ability to bloom even when the world around us is cold, dark, and harsh. We can share our beauty in the face of ugliness, our joy in the face of fear, and our love in the face of hate, we can make every day feel like the first day of spring.May you bloom well today and always. May you shine your light, share your love and be truly alive in the glory of God’s creation. And may you forever make God smile.

Two little old ladies

Two little old ladies were sitting on a park bench outside the localTown hall where a flower show was in progress.The thin one leaned over and said,’Life is so boring. We never have any fun any more.For $10.00 I’d take my clothes off and streak through that stupid,Boring flower show!”You’re on!’ said the other old lady, holding up a $10 bill.The first little old lady slowly fumbled her way out of her clothesAnd, completely naked, streaked (as fast as an old lady can) throughThe front door of the flower show.Waiting outside, her friend soon heard a huge commotion inside the hallFollowed by loud applause and shrill whistling.Finally, the smiling and naked old lady came through the exit doorSurrounded by a cheering, clapping crowd.’What happened?’ asked her waiting friend.’I won $1000 as 1st prize for “Best Dried Arrangement….!!! “

“I FEEL GOOD”By Roger Dean

Kiser Back in the late 1970s, maybe even the early 1980s, my wife and IOwned a business selling wood burning stoves. The bottom had just about fallen out of the business and we hadDecided to move from Brunswick, Georgia, back to Modesto, California. Everything was packed and loaded into the two vehicles. All was readyFor the 3,000 mile cross country trip, except for the two animals and about800 cans of canned meat and vegetables. I have always had this “thing” about having tons of canned food. IHave always had a pantry everywhere I have lived. If there wasn’t a pantryWhen I moved in, I would build one. I guess storing canned food stems back to when I was a young boy inThe orphanage. I have never forgotten the nights I went to bed hungry –My stomach hurting and growling. I remember the days that I had to stealBread crumbs so that whatever boy was locked in the hall closet would haveSomething to eat. There was no way that we would be able to haul all this food acrossCountry. So, it was decided that we would leave it for the next family whoMight rent the house after we moved. I drove to the supermarket to pick up some soft drinks for the trip.As I made my way down the aisle, there were three elderly women blocking Walkway. I stopped and waited hoping that they would move one of theirCarts so that I could get through. I stood there getting a little. The three of them were going through tons of coupons. All atOnce, one of the ladies dropped the coupons and they scattered all over theFloor. I pushed my cart to one side and I got down on my hands and knees andI began gathering up the hundreds of coupons. As I raked them together IHeard the ladies talking among themselves. It appears that the three ofThem had pooled their social security money together in order to buy food The month. I gathered up the coupons and I handed them to one of theWomen. When I looked into one of their carts there must have been 40 or 50Cans of peas. “Boy! You guys sure must love peas,” I said. “They are on sale, five for a dollar,” said the elderly woman. “You eat peas everyday?” I asked them. “Corn will be on sale next month,” said another lady. “Ladies, I have a deal for you. Put all this stuff back and followMe,” I told them. “I know you do not know me from Adam. But we areLeaving for California in a few hours. I have a ton of canned food thatYou can have for free. Peas, corn, canned meat, tuna, chicken in a can.You name it, I got it,” I told them. “The manager knows me here. He willTell you that it is ok.” Within five minutes the ladies were following me to my house. ForMore than 30 minutes we loaded canned goods into their car’s trunk and backSeat. All at once, one of the elderly ladies picked up two cans of cornedBeef hash and held it against her chest. “You’ve got meat! I LIKE MEAT,” said the woman, as she sat down onThe ground and began to cry. “I’ve never seen anyone cry over canned meat before,” I told her. “You’d cry if you got hungry enough,” said one of the other elderly women. “I know,” I said, as I smiled at her, remembering back to my days inThe orphanage. As they drove away I looked over at my wife and I yelled out, “I FEELGOOD — just like the song says.” “Oh, Roger. Let’s go! California here we come!” she said as sheSmiled at me.

The nursing home

A family took their frail, elderly mother to a nursing home and left her,hoping she would be well cared for. The next morning, the nurses bathed her,fed her a tasty breakfast, and set her in a chair at a window overlooking a lovely flower garden.She seemed okay, but after a while she slowly started to tilt sideways in her chair.Two attentive nurses immediately rushed up to catch her and straighten her up.Again she seemed okay, but after a while she slowly started to tilt over to her other side.The nurses rushed back and once more brought her back upright. This went on all morning.Later, the family arrived to see how the old woman was adjusting to her new home.”So Ma, how is it here? Are they treating you all right?””It’s pretty nice,” she replied. “Except they won’t let me fart.”

THE BAPTIST CHURCH DINNER

A group of friends from the Cottonwood Baptist Church wanted to get Together on a regular basis, socialize, and play games. The lady of the House was to prepare the meal. When it came time for Al and Janet to be The hosts, Janet wanted to outdo all the others. She decided to have Mushroom-smothered steak. But mushrooms are expensive. She then told her Husband, “No mushrooms. They are too high.” He said, “Why don’t you go Down in the pasture and pick some of those mushrooms? There are plenty In the creek bed.” She said, “No, some wild mushrooms are poison.”He said, “Well, I see varmints eating them and they’re OK.” So Janet Decided to give it a try.. She picked a bunch, washed, sliced, and diced Them for her smothered steak. Then she went out on the back porch and Gave Ol’ Spot (the yard dog) a double handful. Ol’ Spot ate every bite. All morning long, Janet watched Ol’ Spot and the wild mushrooms didn’t Seem to affect him, so she decided to use them.The meal was a great success, and Janet even hired a helper lady from Town to help her serve. After everyone had finished, they relaxed, Socialized, and played ’42′ and dominoes. About then, the helper lady Came in and whispered in Janet’s ear.She said, “Mrs. Williams, Ol’ Spot is dead.” Janet went into hysterics. After she finally calmed down, she called the doctor and told him what Had happened.The doctor said, “That’s bad, but I think we can take care of it. I will Call for an ambulance and I will be there as quickly as possible. We’ll Give everyone enemas and we will pump out everyone’s stomach. Everything Will be fine. Just keep them calm”Soon they could hear the siren as the ambulance was coming down the Road. The EMTs and the doctor had their suitcases, syringes, and a Stomach pump. One by one, they took each person into the bathroom, gave Them an enema, and pumped out their stomach.After the last one was finished, the doctor came out and said, “I think Everything will be fine now,” and he left. They were all looking pretty weak sitting around the living room and About this time the helper lady came in and whispered to Janet, “YouKnow, that fellow that run over Ol’ Spot never even stopped.”

First Day Fishing By Tanya Breed

All summer, our six-year-old son Chris had been begging his dad to take him On his first fishing trip. Tomorrow was the big day, but now Ron had to work And the day was ruined. I could see the disappointment in our son’s eyes. Choking back the tears, he turned to walk away. “Wait a minute, Chris,” I heard myself say. “Can I take you fishing?” “Well, uh, okay, Mom,” he answered as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard me Correctly. “We’ll get up at five o’clock in the morning. Is that all right?” “Sure,” he said with a smile quickly replacing his tears. I should have thought it through more clearly before I had spoken; I hadn’t Been fishing before either. The alarm buzzed at 5 a.m. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been up That early. After eating a quick bowl of cereal, we hoisted the ice chest into The car. It was loaded with sandwiches, lots of drinks and plenty of ice to Pack all the fish we were going to catch. With a list of things we needed, we Headed for the nearest bait and tackle shop to buy a pole, line, hooks and some Worms. Then we were off to the lake. It was a typical August morning with the sun already scorching. We trudged Along the rocky shore carrying our gear and finally settled under a “wannabe” Tree. I explained to Chris that a wannabe tree is a want-to-be tree, because The trees here in Arizona don’t grow very big due to the extreme heat and lack Of rain. He agreed that the small amount of shade was better than none at all. I attached the line to the pole and secured the hook with a knot that would Have held Moby Dick. I was dreading the next step. “Mom, can you put a worm on my hook for me?” “Okay, but you’d better learn quick. This is my first and last time.” All right, I can do this, I thought as I scrunched my eyes shut and quickly Grabbed the first worm that unwittingly wriggled between my thumb and Forefinger. The next chore was putting the worm on the hook. I didn’t know Worms came in different sizes; this one was really skinny. Chris stood back, Partly because of the look on my face and partly because it amazed him that I’d Even dare touch a worm. Chris must have been reading my mind as I wondered how This worm was going to stay on the hook. “It doesn’t want to stay on the hook,” he murmured as the worm kept falling Off. Suddenly, quite by accident, I stabbed the worm. There it hung mortally Wounded and writhing in pain. “Quick, throw the line into the water!” I Screamed. There was no way that Chris was going to be able to skewer these Skinny worms onto a hook without hooking himself. The realization that I was Going to have to put the rest of these wriggling, slimy little crawlers on the Hook for Chris didn’t thrill me, but I soon became quite the expert at “accidentally” attaching worms to the hook. Three hours later and with three small bluegill neatly lined up in the Corner of our ice chest, we decided to head for home. The fish had given up Trying to make a meal from our “slim” offerings, and the glaring sun had sent Them for deeper, cooler water. Ron was still at work when we arrived home. I was relieved because I was Sweaty, smelled of fish, and our meager catch didn’t qualify for bragging Rights. “Mom, are we gonna cook ’em?” “I suppose we could,” I grimaced. The thought hadn’t even entered my mind. The fish were so puny that we’d be lucky to get more than two small bites out of Each one. Nevertheless, I popped them into the pan, and within minutes they Were ready to eat. I put all three fish on Chris’ plate. “No, you get one too, Mom,” he insisted. My plan hadn’t worked; I was going to have to eat one. Chris took the First bite and didn’t spit it out, so I tried a bite too. It tasted just like The fishy lake water, but I forced it down. Ron walked in just as I was taking My last bite. “Well, how was your trip?” he asked. Chris began talking before I could swallow my last mouthful. “It was great, Dad! The water was so clear and smooth, and the sky was Really blue. There were no boats when we first got there so it was real quiet. We could hear the birds singing. Mom and I sat on a rock and watched a duck Swim and make a trail in the water. It was really fun and Mom was the best!” He then told Ron all about wannabe trees. When he had finished talking, Chris turned and hugged me. Was the sky that blue? What singing birds? And I hadn’t even seen the duck. I had been too engrossed putting the worms on the hook to appreciate the beauty, but Chris had taken it all in. “Thanks, Mom. Let’s go back to our wannabe spot again real soon,” he said, his eyes sparkling. How could I refuse his irresistible offer? “Yes, we’ll go again soon.”