"The rainy day angel story...

[Carol Anne Kincaid~Paradis]

Good Morning...

To laugh often and much;

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To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;

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To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;

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To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;

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To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed

social condition;

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To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived…

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This is to have succeeded.

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~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

We are having the Santa Claus Parade and its pouring rain... I hope Santa has a umbrella...Anyway, this is a story about "The rainy day angel story ..I get a little nervous when people seem to put angels above God by focusing on the gift, rather than the giver. However, angels are an unforgettable reminder that God truly cares about every detail of our lives. I haven't offered this story to the public before. Only my family and a few friends have ever heard my rainy day angel story.

I am visually impaired. I do have some sight, but a lot of things effect it, the time of day, how bright the sun is, how much contrast is in the environment and so-on.

I was out on the street on an incredibly rainy day. It was mid-winter and, although it was only 3:30 PM, it was getting dark and rainy. I fear the dusk more than anything else I can think of. I can see far better at night than when it is dusk.

I was trying to get to a pharmacy where I turned in and paid my utility bill. It was past due and I wanted to get it taken care of that day, but I couldn't find my way.

I was totally disoriented, although I'd been to that place a hundred times.

The way the area was paved made it hard for me to tell which was the sidewalk and which was the street. When I was nearly mowed down by a car, I stopped to pray. I was soaked to the skin, confused and on the verge of tears. I'm a quite independent person, there seemed to be no way getting myself out of this one.

"Lord," I prayed. "I need your help. Please help me on this lonely rainy day."

I wasn't even finished with the prayer when I heard a robust man's voice.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

I looked up at him. He looked to be in his early 60s or late 50s. He was wearing a blue raincoat and a blue baseball cap. I think he had a patch on one shoulder. It looked like a postman's uniform. He had a ruddy bronze complexion with a shock of white hair just above the roll of flesh on the back of his neck. Now looking back I think he mostly looks like a rainy day angel.

I hated asking for help because people get carried away with the helping until I'm overwhelmed and they ask a lot of irrelevant questions.

"I'm trying to get to Beaverton Pharmacy." I said. "I've got to get there before they close."

"Oh, I know where that is." He said cheerfully.

"Here it comes!" I thought. "Now I'll never get rid of him."

Then, he did the most amazing thing. He turned away from me and offered me his elbow. I about fell over. My own parents still try to push me ahead of them if they think I need guidance. Even my boyfriend didn't know how to guide me.

I took his arm. It was warm and surprisingly dry. As we walked, I started rattling away about how I got myself into this predicament and that I had almost given up and thought I was going to have to sit somewhere until it got dark in order to find my way home. I needed to vent. I needed to just be heard without being told what to do or what I should have done or having to answer the question "How many fingers am I holding up?"

The man never said another word. He just listened. I had a profound and growing sense that this man knew me very well. He knew me better than anyone else I know. I wondered if it was an older man from my church, there was no doubt he knew everything about me.

When we rounded a corner, I recognized where we were.

"Oh Thanks! I know where I am now," I said. As I let go of his arm, I turned to thank him. No one was there, just the rain. There were no footsteps leading away, not even a shadow.

It seemed I stood there for the longest time, trying to comprehend what had just happened. It just couldn't be, but it was as real as everything else around me. When I thought about it, I hadn't heard any footsteps coming toward me when I was praying. I had been a little startled in fact because he seemed to just--appear.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I felt like the reality of it might pull me to the ground.

"God? You thought  other time, possibly two. I'm pretty certain about the second time. He was walking with a lady. I had a guide dog by this time, but I still some times get disoriented. He gave me the directions I asked for, then vanished.

Both times, my awareness of this being a supernatural experience was hidden until after the fact. I think that is how God wants it in many cases as we'd all start seeking after angels instead of God. I don't think all angels are alike and I definitely think they often assume a very ordinary appearance in order to not draw attention away from what is more important. It's not really about meeting an angel. It is about God sending me exactly what His child needed. He just did it in a more tangible way than usual with His rainy day angel.

This rainy day angel story was written by Shelley.

Shelley supports (celebrate blindness)

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