And the Angel Talked with Me…

Monday November 12, 2007

Today, I met an angel.  Well, not like your stereotypical “gorgeous, tall, winged-being-from-above” angel.  He was, well…
I was on my home from school on the light-rail (train), just gazing out the window and not really paying attention to what was going on around me.  It was cloudy all day, and I was in a somber mood, thinking about various things concerning school, stress, and my health.
A middle-aged man smelling slightly of alcohol and wearing worn-out street clothes took the empty seat directly across from me.  I took no notice of this.  The train was pretty empty and the guy could sit wherever he wanted, for all I care.
Not a minute later, however, a clear, loud, “Hello,” cut through the silence between us and snapped me out of my drab thoughts into the present.  I turned to him a politely said, “Hello,” back, not used to being addressed this abruptly and not sure of what would come of this.  As I looked at him, he really seemed homeless, or maybe just poor, so I figured, as a psychologist, there would be no harm in letting him talk if he wanted to talk.  People like to have someone to listen; I’m usually the one who will listen willingly.
What happened next, however, completely threw me off.
He then asked me, “What are you thinking about?”
Blinking in mild surprise at first, I shrugged and replied, “Just school.”
The man nodded in understanding, his bright blue eyes looking into my own eyes.  “You know, I can tell that you are not like other people, that you can think for yourself,” he said (or something to that effect).  “You probably know that there is a higher power taking care of us all.”
I was surprised.  No, shocked, honestly.  This was one of the last places I was expecting to hear about God: a light-rail car in down-town Denver.  A place as public as this.  Besides, why would he assume I was a believer, even though I am?  I was not wearing any of my cross necklaces or carrying a Bible or anything.
“You see, I’m an angel,” he continued.  “I’m one of his kids.  And so are you.  Don’t ever forget that!”  He told me as his hand beat the air firmly, pointing his finger at me, to emphasize his point while I watched, dumbfounded really.  “I’ve seen what evil things can happen, and there are people who treat us like dogs for what we believe in.  But in the end, we will win.  We will not be the ones lying under the bed in fear.  We will win!  Don’t forget that!
“So don’t you ever give up,” the man told me.  “You are His kid, and He will watch out for you.  Don’t ever give up.”
All I could do was sit there and stare at him.  Perhaps it was the drink talking, but…he was saying everything I desperately needed to hear.  I was so fed up with being sick all the time, and here was this random older man telling me not to give up, that I was being watched over.  I had never even told this man I was sick, and I definitely did not look sick in my big, fluffy down coat.  I kept watching him, hardly ever talking in this conversation.  What a moron I was thinking that this man might have been lonely.  I was the one getting the counseling now.
“You know another amazing thing about God?” he kept on going.  “He can see straight through you without ever looking at your clothes or how you act or whatever.”  The man - angel, I guess I should say - tapped his forehead knowingly.  “He knows who you are, no matter what.  And God’s ideas become a reality.  Wow…that’s cool!”
I smiled at him, more for lack of a better reaction.  I do not cry in public.  I am not sure how the last part came out, though it is an interesting thing to think about.  The former part of this piece of our conversation actually matched up exactly with something I had prayed about weeks before this encounter.  I do not want to go into further details, though, because it is private.  But I thought the general message was a good one anyway, so I included it here.  Besides, it did happen.  Why cut it out?
“See, I’m an angel.  I’m nothing next to God.  But I can tell His other kids like yourself about Him.  Remember, you’re His kid.  I’m just a nobody.”  The angel stood up as the train began to stop.  “You’ll never see me again.”  He smiled at me.  
“I’m glad to have met an angel like you.  God bless!  Don’t give up!”  With that, he was gone.
The whole conversation took, oh, ten minutes, or however long it takes for the train to get through two stops.  It is one of those experiences I will most likely not forget for quite some time.  I know I could be my usual cynical self about this and blame the entirety of this on alcohol since the man did smell of drink.  I know if I read this, I would have a hard time believing it myself.  The things he told me, I could just say he was crazy.  Just look at his parting statement.  I am no angel.  What was he talking about?  Or perhaps he was just pulling my leg, playing me for the fool.  I am not one who trusts people; I am a cynic.  
And yet…sometimes you do need to have faith in someone.  Even if he or she is human.  Even if he or she is a friend or a stranger; sometimes, you just have to have faith that maybe, just maybe, that person is worth trusting.  That is what I decided: to listen and trust in what the man told me rather than writing him off as some alcoholic bum spouting nonsense.  
So be aware of the people around you, the strangers, friends, and acquaintances.  When strangers talk to you, reply back.  Who knows?  You might even meet an angel yourself someday among them.  Just do not be expecting wings and a halo.  You will be disappointed then.