Remembering an Angel

One of my favorite Facebook celebrities is Bunmi Laditan, the creator of the brilliant Honest Toddler website. Today she pointed out how the world is kind of depressing these days, what with the pretty disappointing presidential nominees, sexual assault, white privilege, trolling on the internet, etc.  All this, not to mention the ongoing refugee crisis in the Middle East and Europe and 19 Yazidi girls being executed for refusing to sleep with their ISIS “husbands.”  Bunmi shared a story about a couple who helped her out in the grocery store when she was trying to keep from dropping her son and eggs, and she asked for stories of other angels who remind us that the world isn’t a wholly dark place.

It made me think of a story that I don’t think I have shared here.  Just under two years ago, our family went back to the States for our bi-annual visit.  Since Fred and Innocent hadn’t been able to get Canadian visas, they went with Wesley to visit supporters in Pennsylvania while I went up to Ontario with Gretchen.  On my return, our Canadian friends dropped me off at my hotel in Buffalo, NY, from where I was catching a bus to Pennsylvania early the following day.  During the night a freak snowstorm blew in, leaving several inches on the ground and grinding traffic to a halt.  The hotel shuttle wasn’t moving and taxis were more than an hour away, so with eight-month-old Gretchen in a carrier on my front, I picked up two suitcases and my messenger bag and set off to catch the metro rail six blocks away.  I couldn’t roll my suitcases, especially in the 6-8 inches on the corners of the streets, and I almost gave up several times.  I reached the metro stop in time, but found little shelter from the wind-blown snow.  When the train arrived, I struggled to hurl my suitcases up the steps into the train and follow them. I worried about the two block walk remaining at the other end of my train ride.  When we arrived, an oldish man who seemed under-dressed for the weather picked up my suitcases and with almost no conversation beyond the word “Greyhound” he carried my luggage to the bus station.  I had tears in my eyes, as I seriously don’t know if or how I would have managed without his help.  He got me through the doors, asked for nothing, wished me well, and left.

When did an angel cross your path?

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