Sax ~ Cathy Mogus

The little chapel—a nondescript square building that was painted red—had been an army barracks. But what did my pastor husband, Jim, and I expect from a tiny coastal town in British Columbia? A cathedral? We added beige siding, and tried to provide stimulating Sunday services to the tiny congregation of about 30 people.

Music always helped. I played piano and another member played the organ. We even had a gentleman on saxophone, who sometimes led the hymns instead.

One Sunday morning our sax player led the congregation in song, while I accompanied him on piano. In the middle of the first hymn, I could have sworn I heard a saxophone playing, soft and mellow.

I discreetly glanced around the room, but could not determine where the sound was coming from. Not from our sax player—his hands were empty.

Hymn after hymn, the invisible saxophone player accompanied me. Following the service, several parishioners commented on the mysterious saxophone playing. “Did you hear it too?” they asked me.

My husband and I discussed the unusual service when we got home. So many of our church members had noticed the saxophone music, it became obvious to us where the music had come from.

I had always heard people talk about a choir of angels singing—but now I knew that at least one of God’s angels played the saxophone. Just for our little chapel.

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