Inspirational Stories about Angels ~ page #2

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I would love to hear your stories about Angels so please share them with me.


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‘Angel’ Saves an 11 Year Old Boy …..


Austin Forman, an 11-year-old who lives in the brutal climate, knows his chores are a necessity, not a task to do at leisure, so last Saturday afternoon, about 4 p.m., he himself noticed the fire was getting low. So he bundled up and went to fetch a couple of wheelbarrow loads from the backyard woodshed.

As he made his way back to the house in the mid-winter darkness, pushing his second load, he heard crunching on the snow. He stopped just long enough to see a huge shadow appear, and as the shadow charged, his Golden Retriever, who oddly on this day had never left his side instead of cavorting in the snow, also lunged, leaping over the covered lawnmower to collide in midair with a very large cougar, also known as a mountain lion.

There had been vague reports of a cougar in the area, but Angel, his lab, was suddenly in a fierce do-or-die fight with the intimidating cat. “I was terrified. My dog saved my life, but now the cougar had him,” he told a reporter from the Vancouver Sun on Monday as word of the true-to-life horror tale spread across Canada.

Austin ran in the house, screaming, and his mother quickly called her husband, who was nearby visiting at his father’s house, and then called 911 while the two animals fought ferociously outside. Understand, the cougar is about twice as large as Austin’s dog. Constable Chad Gravelle of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police just happened to be at the station, not far away.

But before he could get there, the noise of the fighting eerily stopped. Austin’s sister, 17-year-old Holly, later recalled, “All we could hear was the heavy breathing of the cougar. He had Angel’s head in his mouth and was trying to suffocate her.”

That’s when the Royal Mountie roared up. “I got the call a cougar was mauling a child and that it was Austin,” the constable said. “He’s a good little guy and I was just hoping nothing was happening to him.“ As the officer rushed to the house, the daughter came out on the porch sobbing and said the cougar had the dog. My first thought was, ‘Thank Christ it doesn’t have the boy.’”

Constable Gravelle ran through the house and down the back stairs, where the big cat had dragged the still-battling Angel under the back porch. “The cat’s tail was sticking out and I could see the cougar had the dog by the neck.“ By now his service revolver was in the Mountie’s hand. “I wanted to hit the cougar and miss the dog. They were all tangled up together.”

So as Constable Graville lay in the snow, he fired a first shot that hit the cougar in the hind end, which caused the cat to only growl and clamp down harder on the dog. The second shot – equally true – hit the beast in the head, ending the death grip, but when Gravelle and Austin’s father, Jay, pulled the blonde lab out from under the porch, she didn’t move. Austin, watching horrified from the window, thought his dog was dead.

Said his father, “When we got the cougar off of her, she was barely breathing. But, all of a sudden, she took a great big breath.”

Then the dog, just over a year old, dragged herself through the snow, rubbing her face as she tried to clear away the blood, and then she raised up. “All of a sudden her lungs filled with air, like a person awakening from a long sleep,” said the Mountie. “It was unreal!

As Austin’s father yelled, “She’s up!” the rest of the family poured out of the house. That’s when Angel went to every person, sniffing just so. “When she stopped at my son, she smelled him closely to make sure the cougar didn’t get him, and then she flopped down in the snow.”

Now it was Austin’s turn to pounce, “I thanked her and petted her and gave her a hug,” he would later say in a modest way. “After I found out she was alive, I was very joyful.” The remaining blood was tenderly washed away, the family doctored their pet as best they could, and a visit to the vet revealed nothing serious.

Other than some puncture wounds and tears, the dog is obviously as hardy as the people who live in Boston Bar this time of year; everything is going to be alright. “When we first got the dog, we called her angel because she loved to play in the snow, but now we call her our guardian angel,” said Austin’s dad.

So the next time you complain about the cold, be thankful your winter chill doesn’t come with a huge cougar in it, but also remember there are some four-legged Angels that walk among us, too.
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Love and Blessings,
AngelBaby


A scary dark night ….



I’m from Mexico and I have worked together with Angels since some years ago. That is when I came to be in touch with my Protector (Guardian) Angel, I know his name but he is shy. Well I have a real story about Angels of protection (Guardian).

On January 2nd 2006, I was walking through the streets of my birthplace, when around 7 pm and I could see people running down the street in the dark of the night, suddenly I saw a guy come running at me and I continued walking calmly, suddenly he grabbed me and he told me to give him my purse, I had a new cellular phone and my paycheck also some extra money to make some payments. I looked all around and nobody was there, I thought he would hurt me and the only thing I could think of to do is to call my protector (Guardian) Angel, so I called on him for his help, and suddenly the guy let me go and he ran away the same way he came, he didn’t take anything from me, nothing, he did not hurt me either.

I have promised to work together with the Angels and the Light. I can listen to them already and to me it’s a pleasure help other people. If you need something just ask for their help and they will give it to you as soon as possible, believe me.
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Regards,
Alyde


One Terrifying Night ……….



It was a beautiful night back in the 60’s when my brothers and their friends were off to have a good time. They all piled into the Lark station wagon and started off to the party. My brother Mike was driving, his friend was riding shotgun and my brother John was in the back seat with his friend. They were laughing and telling some great stories about other great times they had together. It was going to be another wonderful time. They were driving down the 101 freeway in Los Angeles there wasn’t much traffic so it was smooth going.

All of a sudden Mike could not steer the car, now they were in the fast lane of the freeway. They were going into the center divider fence at a high rate of speed. All of them were screaming “Oh my God”. Mike was yelling hold on! The car kept careening against the fence taking out one post after another. All you could here was the horrible scraping of the car against the fence and tearing sound of the metal ripping off the car and all the young men in the car yelling oh my God, oh my God hold on. All of the boys were being banged and bounced around the car over and over again. This was before seat belts so they were not strapped in. They took out over one hundred fence posts before the car came to a stop.

All the while there was a highway patrol man behind the car he could not believe what he was seeing. He called into dispatch and told them what was happening. It looks really bad he said, We are going to need several ambulances, send them now. Oh my God how are they going to survive this? He really expected to see them have very serious injuries.

When the car finally stopped the highway patrol man ran to the car to see if anyone survived. Then as he got to the car all four of the young men had managed to free themselves from the wreckage and walked over to the patrolman. He could not believe his eyes. They were all just fine. Mike had a small scratch on his forehead other than that no one was hurt at all, not even a bruise. Then they went to look at the car. All of them just stared in silence. The car was destroyed. The drivers side of the car was gone completely. The steering wheel was bent from the mike desperately trying to steer the car, the whole car was smashed to pieces. There was debris scattered all over the freeway. How did they survived this without getting seriously hurt?

Of course the Highway Patrolman helped them get a hold of our parents who were really upset about the accident and worried that they were hurt. So we all piled into the car to see if they were alright. To our amazement they were just fine. When we saw the car we could not believe it. They all tried to get back into it the way they were during the accident and they could not get back in there was no room. They did not fit. How could they live through this let alone without any injuries?

The Highway Patrolman said to the boys, “Your Guardian Angels must be watching over you, that’s all I can figure.”   We all knew it was the Angels that had protected them that night.
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Love and Blessings,
AngelBaby


Narrow Escapes

You may have heard of Youth for Christ, an organization created to help young Christians grow in their own faith, while also giving them the support and tools to offer God’s message of forgiveness and love to their peers. Amy King belongs to an offshoot of Youth for Christ, a performing group called Spirit Borne. The kids often reach peers by performing, and then ministering after the shows.

In February 2003, Spirit Borne was doing a production of Joseph the Dreamer in the town of Picton, Ontario. “To picture where this town is,” says Donna, Amy’s mother, “look at any map that includes Lake Ontario. On the north side of that lake (in the middle) you will see a jagged outcrop of land, which juts into the lake. This outcropping is called Prince Edward County and Picton is the county seat, situated near the bottom of this man-made island. I mention this, because its location has always made it subject to some pretty vicious snow and ice storms.”

On that weekend, the weather was brutal, and to make matters worse, the teens would be performing in an old drafty theater. All day long, as they rehearsed, they dashed back and forth through an alley alongside the theater. “Strung across the alley, about three stories up, was a thick hydro cable,” Donna remembers. “And hanging from the cable was an icicle that had developed to such proportions that at its thickest part, it was about the size of a teen’s upper torso. Like all icicles, it came to a sharp deadly point.” Apparently no one noticed the icicle. The teens ran back and forth, avoiding the cold air as much as possible, blissfully unaware of the danger above them. None of the adult leaders saw the icicle either.

After the final rehearsal, the entire cast of about 40 teens plus the adult leaders, went across town to a local church for supper. By the time they returned, people had already begun to arrive, so once again, the teens went through the alley to get backstage for costumes, make-up and pre-performance worship. The last teenager was just passing under the icicle when he heard a loud crack. He looked up, horrified, then raced for the building and got inside just as the deadly icicle, along with the cable, came crashing down, pieces as sharp as glass littering the entire (and blessedly empty) alley. “Can you imagine how tired those angels’ arms must have been, to hold that icicle and the power line up for so long?” a relieved Donna points out. But that wasn’t the end of the story…

The cable turned out to be the building’s main power source, and was barely attached at this point. But the show was scheduled to begin. A repairman and a police officer arrived at the scene. The police officer heard the details of the incident. “Thank God it didn’t come down ten seconds earlier when 40 kids were passing under it,” he said, shaken.

But the repairman shook his head. “There’s no way this cable can carry enough power to handle your lighting and sound systems,” he told the teens. “And it will be intermittent power at best. I can keep working on it during the show, but…”

“Yes, thank you, please do that.” The teens were doing what they always do when faced with obstacles show, kneeling to pray. Whatever God wanted would be fine with them, they assured their Father. The police officer was visibly moved at their faith and their way of dealing with this unexpected turn of events.

Although the audience had been warned that the power would eventually go off—and the show would have to stop—nothing of the sort occurred. Despite the fragile electricity situation, the performance was beautiful, all the way to the end. Perhaps the prayers were even more meaningful, since they too were said in complete light. “I’m sure that many people left that theatre with a renewed faith and belief in the power of prayer and of God’s protection,” says Donna. “One such changed man was the police officer who couldn’t believe what he had seen, but was moved enough that he made a commitment to attend their next show in a town about 30 minutes away. I don’t know if he kept this commitment, but isn’t it amazing, the lengths God will go to, to reach just one of his children?”

The kids agree, and continue to thank the angels.
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Love and Blessings,
AngelBaby


On Patrol

Kathleen Hauk, of Barrington, Illinois, was delighted when she discovered she and her husband were going to be parents. But the news didn’t slow her down. “In winter, 1999, I became vice president of marketing for a new website, and the job was very stressful,” she says. “Even though I was five months along at that point, I couldn’t slow down.”

On the way home one frigid evening, Kathleen was driving on a six-lane highway, well over the speed limit, and so distracted by thoughts of work that she didn’t notice the police car behind her–until he turned on his lights. Surprised and embarrassed, Kathleen pulled left, onto the median strip.

The officer walked over to her car as traffic whizzed past. “License and registration,” he said curtly. Meekly, Kathleen surrendered the papers. She had been wrong, and she knew it. If only life wasn’t so hectic..

The officer looked at the papers, then at her. “I’m not going to write you a ticket,” he said. “I want to save you the embarrassment of standing in front of a judge in your condition to explain why you were speeding, and risking both your life, and the life of your baby!” Instead, he handed her a warning.

He was right, Kathleen knew. That’s exactly what she had been doing. Somehow she had forgotten what was really important in life. Before she could apologize, the officer leaned in the window again. “Stay here until I tell you it’s safe to pull back into traffic,” he told her, then turned and walked back to his car.

Kathleen nodded, took a few deep breaths, then looked in her rear view for his signal. But how odd! There was nothing behind her now, no traffic on this heavily traveled road, and no squad car. How could he have disappeared so quickly, without signaling her onto the traffic flow as he’d said he would do? Slowly, Kathleen pulled back onto the road and drove home.

Only later did she realize that the officer couldn’t have known that she was pregnant—it was dark and she wore a heavy coat. Nor was there a name or a badge number written on the warning ticket, just a caution against unsafe driving. “Gradually I began to suspect that this police officer was my baby’s guardian angel, sent to remind me that no matter how busy I am or will be, my child must always come first,” she says. Since then, Kathleen takes time to smell the roses. For her and her family, each day is a gift.
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Love and Blessings,
AngelBaby


Fire on the Road

She isn’t sure of the year, but Helen Kron will never forget the fires that kept spreading for what seemed like weeks. She knew full well that she should not have gotten herself in this situation. But when her son—who had been visiting her in Indiana—invited her to come back with him to Florida for awhile, she decided to go. Surely the fires she had been reading about would be out by then. And her son drove a large and sturdy van. They would be fine.

They were, for the first day. But as they got closer to Florida, Helen saw the smoke wafting through what was usually a bright path. Then as miles passed, she started to see the flames. “I was very concerned about these fires along both sides of the road,” Helen says. “From time to time the wind would pick up some burning item and blow it across the street. That piece would start something else burning.” Helen fell back on her remedy for fear—serious prayer. “I began to pray that God would send rain,” she says.

Miles passed, and Helen kept praying. “Oh Lord, give us a flood!” she murmured at one point. And then, although she could hardly believe her eyes, rain came. There was no warning—the deluge simply started as if a dam had burst. Rain pounded the van’s windshield, poured on everything in sight. The fires alongside the roads were quickly extinguished. “Isn’t this wonderful!” Helen cried out in amazement. Who would believe this timing? She thanked God and praised him. The rain kept falling.

Soon, however, the roads seemed to be flooding. Helen noticed that several cars were driving through puddles almost half as high as their tires. Traffic immediately slowed and cars began to stall. “Mom,” Helen’s son said, “I can’t see the road—the wipers can’t keep up. I’m going to have to pull off and wait it out.” There was a parking lot near them, and he splashed into it. The engine died.

Now what? Helen had prayed that rain would come, and now she was praying that it would leave. The old saying, “Be careful what you pray for–you just might get it” popped into her head. How did one ask God to stop the blessings?

Then, through the windshield on the driver’s side, Helen saw a bright light. Was it lightening? This made her even more uneasy. “Then I saw the figure of an angel,” Helen recalls. “Oh! how beautiful she was. She seemed fully grown wearing a white dress that was either eyelet or lace. She had tight blonde curls—like Shirley Temple when she was a child—and she wore a tiara.”

Helen could no longer see the windshield, as the angel’s light was filling the van’s interior. Her arms were outstretched, showing the full sleeves flowing from her dress, and she was looking at Helen. “I felt as if she was saying that everything would be all right,” Helen says. “There was no doubt in my mind what I was seeing.”

The vision lasted just a few minutes. By now the rain had stopped, and drivers seemed to be getting back on the road. “That was a lucky break,” Helen’s son mused as he turned the key and the engine sprang to life. “Look—the sun is even coming out.”

“Didn’t you see her?” Helen demanded, still awed by the vision.

“See who, Mom?”

Warmth flooded Helen. She would tell her son in a few minutes about what had happened. Right now she wished only to hold the miracle close to her heart. “This memory is still very clear to me,” she says today. “I praised God, and wondered ‘why me?’” It was a privilege I’ll never forget.”
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Love and Blessings,
AngelBaby


Panic in the Surf

Jan and Lee, a teenage couple, had gone to Huntington Beach, California, rather late on a weekday. Maybe this was why there were no lifeguards stationed along the shore, and hardly any people there either. “The waves were huge,” Jan says. “There was a storm at sea, and the waves were breaking in sets, one after another, some really far from shore.” The few sunbathers left on shore were packing up to leave.

But Jan wanted to impress her boyfriend. “Let’s go in!” she suggested enthusiastically (even though the waves were quite intimidating.) Lee was obviously smarter, and decided right then and there to stay on shore and spread out the blanket. Jan shrugged and ventured into the high surf alone. “Before I knew what was happening, the waves got even bigger,” she remembers. “I wasn’t that far out, but as I tried to get back to the beach I lost my footing, and couldn’t touch the bottom to propel myself toward shore.”

The enormous waves broke over Jan’s head, making it almost impossible for her to see the shoreline. Disoriented, she felt like a helpless cork, unable to fight the current no matter how hard she swam against it. Couldn’t Lee see her? Jan imagined herself being sucked out to the giant storm farther out at sea. She was going to drown, she knew. As another wave crashed down upon her, Jan realized that she was caught in a dreaded rip tide, which was pulling her farther and farther. Weak, almost paralyzed with fear and exhaustion, Jan managed to yell. “Help!” she screamed, but her plea was silenced by the surf’s roar.

“Then at that very same instant I saw a hand reach out of the water right in front of me,” Jan says, “and a voice asked me calmly if I needed help! I remember grabbing the hand and then I blacked out or was in shock, because I don’t remember much of anything else.” In what seemed like mere seconds, Jan found herself upright, and walking out of the water onto the sand! Right next to her was a slightly-built, clean-cut, dark-haired boy about her age. “You okay?” the boy asked.

Okay? Jan was speechless, gasping for breath. How had this boy managed to pull both of them out of that strong and terrible current without the aid of any sort of life preserver? And where had he come from? No one could have been out pleasure-swimming in that ocean!

“I guess so. Thanks……thanks a lot,” Jan managed to answer. The boy said nothing more, but turned and walked slowly away.

Bewildered, Jan looked around for a moment, and spotted Lee, sitting on their blanket. Had he seen what had happened? Jan turned back, to point out her rescuer to Lee. And a chill ran through her. There was no one walking away from Jan, not a single figure on the deserted beach. The boy had disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

“I asked Lee if he saw the boy who saved me,” Jan says, “but he didn’t see anyone with me anytime, not even when I walked onto the shore. He didn’t even know I was drowning only yards away.”

Jan says she was too young then to realize what had happened to her. Nor did she believe in angels and miracles. “But later,” she says, “after reading about angels and having many miracles, close calls, and strange experiences in my life, I realize I have a very helpful guardian Angel. He accompanies me through my life, and I even know what he looks like!”
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Love and Blessings,
AngelBaby


Isaac’s Miracle

I received this in my e-mail from Joan of Joan Wester Anderson. I participated in this prayer request and I just had to share how things turned out, it is such a beautiful story so please enjoy ……….

We often say, “I’ll pray for you!” But do we honestly believe that there is power in prayer, even more power when many are praying in unison? For those of you who responded to the call this past week, to pray for a little boy none of us knew, you were part of a miracle. Here’s the story:

It was an ordinary late April day at the Frank family farm in downstate Atkinson, Illinois. The five youngest Frank grandchildren were enjoying playing together when suddenly there was an explosion in the barn, and a ball of fire roared through the barn door directly toward the children. As horrified adults ran towards the flames, they realized that eight-year-old Isaac had received the worst of it—-second and third degree burns on his torso, face and arms. Isaac’s dad scooped up his son, ran for the family car, and called 911 on the way. “The ambulance met them, and a second ambulance brought a burn specialist,” grandmother Mary Frank says. “Help was there right away.”

Once at the hospital, however, the grim reality set in. Isaac’s burns were severe, and he cried constantly from the pain (according to the Mayo clinic, second degree burns are the most painful.) Within two days, the doctors at the local hospital transferred him to Loyola University’s world-famous burn unit. The family later learned that burns don’t mature for about 72 hours, and when Isaac’s face began to swell, the local doctors were afraid his lungs would too. He needed more specialized care.

According to Mayo’s, When the first layer of skin has been burned through and the second layer (dermis) also is burned, the injury is called a second-degree burn. Blisters develop and the skin takes on an intensely reddened, splotchy appearance. Second-degree burns produce severe pain and swelling. Isaac’s face was covered extensively with second degree burns. It was still unknown if his eyes and ears had been permanently damaged, and he had frightening flashbacks of the accident, that kept him from sleeping. Perhaps the worst part was the twice-daily two-hour scrubs, where nurses remove dead skin to prevent scarring. Despite some anesthesia, Isaac’s pain was horrific. “Daga,” he later told Mary “no kid should ever have this happen to him.” Isaac is a true angel-lover, and during those first few days, he wondered where his angel had gone.

When Mary heard the news, she had literally gotten on her knees and cried out to God and to the Archangel Raphael (patron of healing) to send an army of angels to help her grandson. “I asked specifically that Isaac’s pain would be taken from him, and given to me instead. But all we kept hearing from the hospital was bad news.” So Mary began alerting friends, and passing the request to prayer groups. Isaac’s maternal grandmother did the same. “Pray for Isaac,” the message stated. “Pray that he is free of pain. Pray, pray.” This is when all of you received the message, via our angel mailing list. And you became prayer warriors too.

No one is exactly sure when things started to change, but less than a week after the accident, Isaac’s appetite began to return. Since he needed protein, he became a fan of the Dairy Queen near the hospital. His attitude was more upbeat too and his physicians felt that since his convalescence would be long and he would probably need skin grafts, he might as well go home and have nursing care there instead. “How could this be?” family members asked one another. Isaac still looked so injured. But the little boy insisted that he could go home because….he didn’t have any pain. When Mary saw his burns, it seemed impossible. “His lips are blistered and raw…his entire face is raw,” she said that day. “But he is in no pain. Oh God, How Great Thou Art!!”

Isaac did go home, and nurses came in each day to remove the dressings and to peel away any more dead skin. “They apply an antibiotic ointment over the entire area,” Mary reported that same week. “There is no more fever. They check everything for infection and then they rewrap it and pull that pressure stocking over his head and face. From what I saw yesterday, it really looks good.”

About a week later, Isaac’s parents took him back to Loyola for a checkup. The surprised doctor had never seen anything like this. “Isaac, I wasn’t expecting you to look like this at all,” he said. “But you are almost healed! You don’t have to see me anymore, unless some problem pops up.”

Just twenty-three days after the accident, Isaac is back in school full time, catching up on his missed days, the family reports. He has received cards, letters and gifts from all around the world, and he is amazed and grateful, and reads every one. “No more flashbacks or nightmares of the fire,” Mary says. “He has no pain. His eyes are fine. His nose is fine…his lips and ears are fine….it looks now just like a bad sunburn. The doctors say there will be minimal to no scarring, and no skin grafts needed! And he is laughing and being the character Isaac has always been. How awesome!”

Mary still doesn’t understand how this could be. “But when something like this happens and your heart and mind are all scrambled with worry and helplessness, He says, “Be Still And Know That I Am God. All of these prayer partners brought us the miracle we were praying for, and we are so grateful…Unbelievable! Isaac is laughing again.”

Thank you, Earth Angels.

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Love and Blessings,
AngelBaby


Robby’s Night

At the prodding of my friends, I am writing this story. My name is Mildred Hondorf. I am a former elementary school music teacher from Des Moines, Iowa. I’ve always supplemented my income by teaching piano lessons something I’ve done for over 30 years. Over the years I found that children have  many levels of musical ability. I’ve never had the pleasure of having a  prodigy though I have taught some talented students.

However I’ve also had my share of what I call “musically challenged”  pupils. One such student was Robby. Robby was 11 years old when his mother (a single Mom) dropped him off for his first piano lesson. I prefer that students (especially boys!) begin at an earlier age, which I explained to Robby.

But Robby said that it had always been his mother’s dream to hear him play the piano. So I took him as a student. Well, Robby began with his piano lessons and from the beginning I thought it was a hopeless endeavor. As much as Robby tried, he lacked the sense of tone and basic rhythm needed to excel. But he dutifully reviewed his scales and some elementary pieces that I require all my students to learn.

Over the months he tried and tried while I listened and cringed and  tried to encourage him. At the end of each weekly lesson he’d always say, “My mom’s going to hear me play someday.” But it seemed hopeless. He just did not have any inborn ability. I only knew his mother from a distance as she dropped Robby off or waited in her aged car to pick him up. She always waved and smiled but never stopped in.

Then one day Robby stopped coming to our lessons.  I thought about calling him but assumed because of his lack of ability,  that he had decided to pursue something else. I also was glad that he stopped coming. He was a bad advertisement for my teaching!

Several weeks later I mailed to the student’s homes a flyer on the upcoming recital. To my surprise Robby (who received a flyer) asked me if he  could be in the recital. I told him that the recital was for current pupils and because he had dropped out he really did not qualify. He said that his mother had been sick and unable to take him to piano lessons but he was still practicing. “Miss Hondorf . . . I’ve just got to play!” he  insisted.

I don’t know what led me to allow him to play in the recital. Maybe it was his persistence or maybe it was something inside of me saying that it would be all right. The night for the recital came. The high school gymnasium  was packed with parents, friends and relatives. I put Robby up last in the program before I was to come up and thank all the students and play a finishing piece. I thought that any damage he would do would come at the  end of the program and I could always salvage his poor performance through my “curtain closer.”

Well, the recital went off without a hitch. The students had been practicing and it showed. Then Robby came up on stage. His clothes were wrinkled  and his hair looked like he’d run an eggbeater through it. “Why didn’t he dress up like the other students?” I thought. “Why didn’t his mother at least  make him comb his hair for this special night?”

Robby pulled out the piano bench and he began. I was surprised when he announced that he had chosen Mozart’s Concerto #21 in C Major. I was not prepared for what I heard next. His fingers were light on the keys, they even danced nimbly on the ivories.He went from pianissimo to fortissimo. From allegro to virtuoso. His suspended chords that Mozart demands were magnificent! Never had I heard Mozart played so well by people his age. After six and a half minutes he ended in a grand crescendo and everyone was on their feet in wild applause ! Overcome and in tears I ran up on stage and put my arms around Robby. “I’ve never heard you play like that Robby! How’d you do it?” Through  the microphone Robby explained: “Well Miss Hondorf. . .. remember I told you  my Mom was sick? Well, actually she had cancer and passed away this  morning.  And well . . . she was born deaf so tonight was the first time she ever heard me play. I wanted to make it special.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house that evening. As the people from  Social Services led Robby from the stage to be placed into foster care, I  noticed that even their eyes were red and puffy and I thought to myself how much richer my life had been for taking Robby as my pupil.

No, I’ve never had a prodigy but that night I became a prodigy. . .  Robby’s. He was the teacher and I was the pupil. For it is he that  taught me the meaning of perseverance and love and believing in yourself and maybe even taking a chance in someone and you don’t know why.

Robby was killed in the senseless bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah  Federal Building in Oklahoma City in April of 1995. And now, a  footnote to the story.

we can all make a difference. So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do we act with compassion or do we pass up that opportunity and leave the world a bit colder in the process?  What will you do?
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Love and Blessings,
AngelBaby


I Walk With Angels ……

Many years ago, I was working as a bank teller for Bank of America. One day, while I was filing checks a man walked up to my window which was closed at the time. He was dressed and looked like a priest. Then he looked me right in the eyes and asked me, Why are you mad at God? Now, like I said my window was closed and he didn’t have any transaction to take care of. Needless to say I was a little stunned. I looked at him and said “what?” He said again, “why are you mad at God?” I said, “I am not mad at God.” Even though I knew exactly what he was talking about, I had never told anyone how I felt about God or anything spiritual. How would he know how I felt. I mean I had been through allot of bad stuff in my life so of course who else could I blame? I didn’t tell him this and I wouldn’t admit it to anyone else. Then he said, “God loves you and he did not have anything to do with it. You don’t need to be mad at God. He loves you.”

Then he just turned and walked away. I glanced down at the checks I was filling and when I looked up he was gone. Now I only looked at my checks for a second, how could he disappear so quick. I looked around the bank and he was no where to be found.

I sat there in silence for a while thinking about what just happened here. I knew without a doubt God had sent an angel to me to let me know how much he loved me. It was an amazing way to get my attention and it worked really well. From that time on I have never blamed God for anything that happens to me. I know that God loves me and so do the Angles and I have never doubted it again. I have never forgotten that day, it is just like it happened yesterday. I can still see his face and hear what he said. I know that I walk with God and the Angels everyday.
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Love and Blessings,
AngelBaby


You have a choice

What would you do? You make the choice!  My question to all of you is: Would you have made the same choice?

At a fund raising dinner for a school that serves learning disabled children,the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:

“When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?”

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. “I believe,that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes, in the way other people treat that child.”Then he told the following story:

Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked,”Do you think they’ll let me play?” Shay’s father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

Shay’s father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play, not expecting much. The boy looked around for guidance and said, “We’re losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we’ll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.”

Shay struggled over to the team’s bench put on a team shirt with a broad smile and his Father had a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father’s joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay’s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay’s team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.

At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible ’cause Shay didn’t even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing the other team putting winning aside for this moment in Shay’s life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.

The game would now be over, but the pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.

Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the head of the first baseman, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, “Shay, run to first! Run to first!” Never in his life had Shay ever ran that far but made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, “Run to second, run to second!”

Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to second base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball, the smallest guy on their team, who had a chance to be the hero for his team for the first time. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher’s intentions and he too intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman’s head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

All were screaming, “Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay”

Shay reached third base, the opposing shortstop ran to help him and turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, “Run to third! Shay, run to third” As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams and those watching were on their feet were screaming, “Shay, run home! Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the “grand slam” and won the game for his team.

That day, said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world.

Shay didn’t make it to another summer and died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his Father so happy and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
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Love and Blessings,
AngelBaby


The Lords Prayer

This is in two parts, the prayer (in blue type) and GOD (in red type) in response.

Our Father Who Art In Heaven.
Yes?
Don’t interrupt me. I’m praying.
But — you called ME!
Called you?
No, I didn’t call you.
I’m praying.
Our Father who art in Heaven.
There — you did it again!
Did what?
Called ME.
You said,
‘Our Father who art in Heaven’
Well, here I am.
What’s on your mind?
But I didn’t mean anything by it.
I was, you know, just saying my prayers for the day.
I always say the Lord’s Prayer.
It makes me feel good,
kind of like fulfilling a duty.
Well, all right.
Go on.
Okay, Hallowed be thy name.
Hold it right there.
What do you mean by that?
By what?
By ‘Hallowed be thy name’?
It means, it means good grief, I don’t know what it means.
How in the world should I know?
It’s just a part of the prayer.
By the way, what does it mean?
It means honored, holy, wonderful.
Hey, that makes sense.
I never thought about what ‘hallowed’ meant before.
Thanks.
Thy Kingdom come,
Thy will be done,
on earth as it is in Heaven.
Do you really mean that?
Sure, why not?
What are you doing about it?
Doing? Why, nothing, I guess.
I just think it would be kind of neat if you got control,
of everything down here like you have up there.
We’re kinda in a mess down here you know.
Yes, I know, but have I got control of you?
Well, I go to church.
That isn’t what I asked you.
What about your bad temper?
You’ve really got a problem there, you know.
And then there’s the way you spend your money —
all on yourself.
And what about the kind of books you read?
Now hold on just a minute!
Stop picking on me!
I’m just as good as some of the rest of those people at church!
Excuse ME.
I thought you were praying for my will to be done.
If that is to happen, it will have to start with the ones
who are praying for it — like you for example.
Oh, all right. I guess I do have some hang-ups. Now that you mention it,
I could probably name some others.
So could I.
I haven’t thought about it very much until now,
but I really would like to cut out some of those things.
I would like to, you know, be really free.
Good.
Now we’re getting somewhere. We’ll work together — You and ME.
I’m proud of You.
Look, Lord, if you don’t mind,
I need to finish up here.
This is taking a lot longer than it usually does.
Give us this day, our daily bread.
You need to cut out the bread.
You’re overweight as it is.

Hey, wait a minute! What is this?
Here I was doing my religious duty, and all of a sudden you break in
and remind me of all my hang-ups.

Praying is a dangerous thing.You just might get what you ask for..
Remember, you called ME — and here I am.
It’s too late to stop now. Keep praying.  ( . pause . . )
Well, go on.
I’m scared to.
Scared? Of what?
I know what you’ll say.
TRY me.
Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.
What about Ann?
See? I knew it!
I knew you would bring her up!
Why, Lord, she’s told lies about me, spread stories.
She never paid back the money she owes me.
I’ve sworn to get even with her!

But — your prayer —
What about your prayer?

I didn’t — mean it.
Well, at least you’re honest.
But, it’s quite a load carrying around all that bitterness
and resentment isn’t it?

Yes, but I’ll feel better as soon as I get even with her.
Boy, have I got some plans for her.
She’ll wish she had never been born.

No, you won’t feel any better.
You’ll feel worse.
Revenge isn’t sweet.
You know how unhappy you are?
Well, I can change that.

You can? How?
Forgive Ann — then, I’ll forgive you
And the hate and the sin will be Ann’s problem — not yours.
You will have settled the problem as far as you’re concerned.
Oh, you know, you’re right. You always are. And more than I want revenge, I want to be right with You . . (sigh).
All right all right I forgive her. There now!
Wonderful!
How do you feel?

Hmmmm. Well, not bad. Not bad at all! In fact, I feel pretty great! You know, I don’t think I’ll go to bed uptight tonight. I haven’t been getting much rest, you know.
Yeah, I know.
But, you’re not through with your prayer are you? Go on.

Oh, all right.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.

Good! Good! I’ll do that. Just don’t put yourself in a place where you can be tempted.
What do you mean by that?
You know what I mean.
Yeah. I know.
Okay. Go ahead – finish your prayer.
For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever.
Amen.

Do you know what would bring me glory —
What would really make me happy?

No, but I’d like to know. I want to please you now. I’ve really made a mess of things. I want to truly follow you. I can see now how great that would be.
So, tell me … How do I make you happy?
You just did.

What would you do if God interrupted your prayer to talk to you? What would you say?

To make a comment on this story go here …….


Love and Blessings,
AngelBaby


An Angel on Highway 109

A drunk man in an Cadillac. They said had run the light That caused the six-car pileup On 109 that night. There we bodies and blood everywhere, it was a horrible scene. The sirens were screaming to the scene to help those in need. “A mother was trapped in her car, the police yelled to the paramedics, she needs help fast” so hurry. The mother was crying “Oh, God, please help my boys, please! She fought to get her hands that were pinned free but the mangled metal held her in it’s grip, with all of her struggle she could not free herself. The firemen came and freed her. All she could see was broken glass and two broken children’s car seats crushed in the back seat of her car. Everyone could her her plaintive plea, “Oh God, please spare my boys, please! Her twins were nowhere to be found. She could not hear them crying not one sound, nothing. She cried, “Oh God, don’t let them die!

The firemen looked in the back seat of the car the boys were not there. The seat belts were still intact. Where were the boys? They thought the woman was loosing her mind because there was no sign of the boys so they thought she was traveling alone in the car. When they went to questioned her, she was gone. A police man discovered her running wild down the street screaming, “Please help me find my boys, please!” They are four years old and wearing blue shirts and blue jeans. One of the cops that were helping at the scene told her, “They are in my car and they don’t have a scratch.” They had told the cop that their daddy put them there and gave them each a ice cream cone. Then he told them to wait there for their Mom to come and take them home. The cop told them he had searched everywhere but could not find their father. That is real bad thing to do, he must have fled the scene.

The Mother hugged her twin boys while whipping a tear and said, Their father could not flee the scene, he died a year ago. The cops just looked confused and asked, “How could that happen if he died a year ago. Just then the boys said to their mother, “Mommy, Daddy came and took care of us and he left a kiss for you.” He told us not to worry and that everything is going to be alright. Then he put us in this car with the pretty, flashing lights. They said to their mother, “We wanted him to stay with us, because we miss him so much but mommy he told us he had to go.” Daddy told us that someday we would understand and not to get upset be sure to tell Mommy that I was here and that I am watching over all of you. The mother knew without a doubt that what they said was true. She could remember their dad’s last words, “I will watch over you” he said.

The firemen could not explain what had happened that night. They didn’t know what to put in their reports about the horrific scene and how the boys had escaped injuries or how they ended up in the police car. So in their report they put an Angel walked the beat tonight on Highway 109.
To make a comment on this story go here …….


Love and Blessings,
AngelBaby


Are things really that bad?

I was watching the news last night, it seems like everything is falling apart. The housing market is getting worse, more banks are failing, more people are being laid off and the economy is just plain stuck in muck. Now, I don’t know about you but it is so easy to get caught up in this trap of everything is bad nothing good can come out of this mess so everyone is scared. I have found myself getting caught up in the negative atmosphere, it is so easy to do. I have been looking at all I see through negative eyes instead of looking for the good. I kept trying to be positive and look for the good but the negative just kept coming back to haunt me, especially when I see the news. I have been going through this for a while now as I am sure most people have and I don’t like being so negative about everything it does not feel good at all. Even though I try to be positive and I write about positive thoughts it is just so hard for me to keep it up, that’s right me, AngelBaby was loosening all hope of things getting any better. So I can just imagine how hard it is for others to keep being positive in such a negative world.

I have asked God and the Angels to help me see things in a more positive way because it is so difficult right now. Every time I feel negative thoughts I have tried to change them to positive ones. I have been asking God and the Angels for help so I can become my old self again and be more positive about everything. No one knows better than I do that we need to keep a positive outlook on life for it to be good and get better. This morning when I woke up things felt like they were beginning to change. My home felt a little brighter and nicer. I noticed when I went outside that it felt like a nicer place to live. My negativity seems to be going away, thank God and the Angels for that. I am beginning to feel like there is hope again and that feels really good. It has been a really hard time for me this last few months but I think that things are beginning to look up and I am hopeful again.

We need to look at things a little differently. For instance look at the peanut butter crisis, 500 people have gotten sick from peanut butter that’s right 500 people. Now, in Los Angeles alone there are 10,000,000+ people living here, that is just Los Angeles alone think of how many people there are in the United States so 500 is not very many. It still is a problem that should not have happened but it is not a catastrophe the whole world is not going to die from the peanut butter. Then we need to look at how many people have been laid off or fired in recent months, how does that compare to the rest of the population in our country. Yes, it is not good but it is not the end of the world. We need to look at how many did not loose their jobs and how many people are doing ok right now. It is true that times are difficult but there are allot of people who are doing just fine. The media tends to focus on the bad we need to change that and focus on the good so that things will change for the better. Remember that collective consciousness creates our world so if we want things to get better we need to visualize things being better now.

You will not be able to comment on this page, I don’t know why, but if you go back to the post you will be able to leave a comment. So what do you think?  What did the ancients say about this time in our lives?  To find out go here.  Is the News Media helping to create this mess through collective consciousness?  What do you think we should do?
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Love and Blessings,
AngelBaby


Grandma’s Hands

Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn’t move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands.

When I sat down beside her she didn’t acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if she was OK.

Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at me and smiled. ‘Yes, I’m fine, thank you for asking,’ she said in a clear strong voice.

‘I didn’t mean to disturb you, grandma, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK,’ I explained to her.

‘Have you ever looked at your hands,’ she asked. ‘I mean really looked at your hands?’

I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point she was making.

Grandma smiled and related this story:

‘Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.

‘They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor.

They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child, my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war.

‘They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special.

They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse.

‘They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn’t understand.

They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.

‘These hands are the mark of where I’ve been and the ruggedness of life.

But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ.

I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my grandma’s hands and led her home.

When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and husband I think of grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God.

I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face.
To make a comment on this story go here …….


Love and Blessings,
AngelBaby




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