angels
every christmas season at my church they hang these huge white and purple cloth angels from the ceiling. each of them has a golden trumpet. i don't know who the artist is who created these angels, but she got it right on. this is what i think of when i think of angels--huge, magnificent beings, strong and ready, praising God with sounds of the trumpet.
i believe in the work and the power of angels. that is b/c i have encountered them 4 separate times in my life. my mom has a lot to do with my belief. whenever i go anywhere for work or pleasure she tells me she prays that my guardian angels would protect me. she believes in the strength of my guardian angels and tells me that i probably have some of the strongest, mainly b/c she was involved in my first angel encounter. i was about four at the time and i do not remember this event. but this is how my mom tells it. Logan, our dog, and i were following her up the stairs of our two-story home. we lived in an old house with beautiful hardwood floors (read, the stairs were hard). when our posse reached the top of the stairs the dog decided to jump up on me. the dog was huge, at least huge compared to a skinny four year old. his weight knocked me over and i proceeded to fall down the stairs head-first and backwards. my mom helplessly watched me fall, or as she recalls "float" down the stairs. She said it was as if i never even touched one stair. She doesn't even recall me hitting the bottom, but rather that i was "placed" there. she said my neck should have been broken. she said SOMETHING should have been broken...but i got up with barely a tear shed. she believes that my angels were put to work that day and haven't stopped working since. what's interesting is that my oldest sister happened to be standing at the bottom of the stairs when i fell. she remembers the same thing. i like that story.
my second encounter with an angel happened when i was wrecklessly traveling through central america. i say wrecklessly b/c i did a lot of stupid things. it was nearing the end of the trip. my friend natalie and i were to catch a bus the next morning for the 14 hour ride home from guatemala to honduras. the only problem was that natalie woke up with the worst case of food poisoning i've ever seen. she was letting loose about every 15 mintues. there was no way we were going to get on a bus. she decided that she didn't want to stay in the hostel where we were any longer. you know when you're sick sometimes you don't want to stay in the same place where you were sick? that was the situation. so we gathered all of our earthly belongings, hitched them onto our backs and just started walking. first we were mobbed by kids high on glue. they were trying to grab at any loose item they could find. their eyes were wild. a sad thing, but also a very scary thing. then we were hassled by every man on the street. it's a machismo culture. we were stared at, pawed at, glared at, winked at...we wanted out of there. then, while taking a rest in the central park we saw that day's newspaper. "tourists robbed!" it said. we were out of there. it was then that i realized that i had forgotten my passport back at the hostel tucked safely under the mattress (where else would it be?). stupid, stupid, stupid. natalie was too weak to walk all the way back to retrieve my much needed document. i had to go alone and i was really scared. i began my walk- half-run back to the hostel with my fists clenched. i was ready to swing at anyone who tried to come close to me, child or not. as i was walking i felt the back of my arm being taken into somebody's hand. i turned to punch the person belonging to the hand but stopped when i realized that it was a little old man. he spoke in perfect english. "what are you doing here? this is no place for you! why are you walking here alone? where are you going? i will walk you there." i couldn't argue, so arm in arm we walked back to the hostel. when we got there i went inside to the front desk and asked the woman if i could get back into my room. i turned to thank the man only to find that he was gone. i ran outside and peaked around the corner. nowhere. he was gone. sometimes huge, magnificent angels come in the form of little, old, english speaking guatamalen men. i walked back to the park and nobody paid me an ounce of attention. it was like they couldn't even see me. that night natalie and i stayed in the best hotel in all of guatemala.
my third encounter happened on a run. i was running on the Kent trails with my friend Jenne. These trails cross roads. some are busy some are not. since it was early in the morning, most of them were not busy. i would only half-heartedly look both ways as we crossed a street (every mother gasps). well, at one corner i looked both ways, but failed to notice the white van that was quickly approaching. Jenne stopped. I kept going. i remember that i had an instant dilemma in my mind. it lasted only a millisecond. i thought, "why did she stop? why did she stop? why did she stop? why am i still running? what's coming?" it was then when it felt like i hit a wall. no, the truck did not hit me. i think an angel did. i think my angel spread it's arms and legs and created a barrier. and i ran into him and got stopped cold. i stopped so fast my knee even buckled. i looked to my left just as that white van was screeching and skidding around me, leaving burning rubber marks in its wake. i turned around to find Jenne wide-eyed saying, "what are you doing?" just testing my angels i guess...
my fourth encounter happened recently. it involved me, my kitchen, boiling milk, and a blender. i was trying to make this mexican hot chocolate that we received as a christmas gift. to make it you need to heat up the milk, cut the chocolate into chunks, put it all into the blender, and then blend your way to a cup of warm, sweet bliss. now, i've always had problems with blenders. so you can imagine the next few events. i had tested the milk and it was hot. it was boiling! so i poured it into the blender onto my cut chocolate chunks. i put the lid on. i pressed blend. suddenly the lid shot up to the ceiling and this bubble of hot chocolatey milk burst upwards into my face and onto my outstretched arms. i screamed b/c the whole thing scared the crap out of me. brett came in an immediately started laughing. i was covered from the top of my head to my toes in chocolate milk. it was dripping from my head and smeared across my glasses. my exposed arms, where my sleeves had been pushed back, were already becoming sticky with this sweet mess i had created. it must have been quite a sight! i went upstairs to wash up. that's when i noticed the slight tingling sensation on my arms and face. i rinsed off with cold water. then i saw this bright red line across my left arm. a burn. i checked the rest of my exposed skin for burns. nothing. no burns on my face. none on my hands. the rest of my arms were ok. the tingling that i felt was where the boiling hot milk had got me. but, there was just that one, thin, red line across my forearm. to me, it was my angel saying "this is what could have happened." i'm kind of fond of my burn.
i like believing in angels. i like to think about those instances in my life where things could have gone differently. then i like to blame my safety on these huge heavenly beings that play trumpets every time they score. keep praying for my protection mom...i think it's working. -SN
i believe in the work and the power of angels. that is b/c i have encountered them 4 separate times in my life. my mom has a lot to do with my belief. whenever i go anywhere for work or pleasure she tells me she prays that my guardian angels would protect me. she believes in the strength of my guardian angels and tells me that i probably have some of the strongest, mainly b/c she was involved in my first angel encounter. i was about four at the time and i do not remember this event. but this is how my mom tells it. Logan, our dog, and i were following her up the stairs of our two-story home. we lived in an old house with beautiful hardwood floors (read, the stairs were hard). when our posse reached the top of the stairs the dog decided to jump up on me. the dog was huge, at least huge compared to a skinny four year old. his weight knocked me over and i proceeded to fall down the stairs head-first and backwards. my mom helplessly watched me fall, or as she recalls "float" down the stairs. She said it was as if i never even touched one stair. She doesn't even recall me hitting the bottom, but rather that i was "placed" there. she said my neck should have been broken. she said SOMETHING should have been broken...but i got up with barely a tear shed. she believes that my angels were put to work that day and haven't stopped working since. what's interesting is that my oldest sister happened to be standing at the bottom of the stairs when i fell. she remembers the same thing. i like that story.
my second encounter with an angel happened when i was wrecklessly traveling through central america. i say wrecklessly b/c i did a lot of stupid things. it was nearing the end of the trip. my friend natalie and i were to catch a bus the next morning for the 14 hour ride home from guatemala to honduras. the only problem was that natalie woke up with the worst case of food poisoning i've ever seen. she was letting loose about every 15 mintues. there was no way we were going to get on a bus. she decided that she didn't want to stay in the hostel where we were any longer. you know when you're sick sometimes you don't want to stay in the same place where you were sick? that was the situation. so we gathered all of our earthly belongings, hitched them onto our backs and just started walking. first we were mobbed by kids high on glue. they were trying to grab at any loose item they could find. their eyes were wild. a sad thing, but also a very scary thing. then we were hassled by every man on the street. it's a machismo culture. we were stared at, pawed at, glared at, winked at...we wanted out of there. then, while taking a rest in the central park we saw that day's newspaper. "tourists robbed!" it said. we were out of there. it was then that i realized that i had forgotten my passport back at the hostel tucked safely under the mattress (where else would it be?). stupid, stupid, stupid. natalie was too weak to walk all the way back to retrieve my much needed document. i had to go alone and i was really scared. i began my walk- half-run back to the hostel with my fists clenched. i was ready to swing at anyone who tried to come close to me, child or not. as i was walking i felt the back of my arm being taken into somebody's hand. i turned to punch the person belonging to the hand but stopped when i realized that it was a little old man. he spoke in perfect english. "what are you doing here? this is no place for you! why are you walking here alone? where are you going? i will walk you there." i couldn't argue, so arm in arm we walked back to the hostel. when we got there i went inside to the front desk and asked the woman if i could get back into my room. i turned to thank the man only to find that he was gone. i ran outside and peaked around the corner. nowhere. he was gone. sometimes huge, magnificent angels come in the form of little, old, english speaking guatamalen men. i walked back to the park and nobody paid me an ounce of attention. it was like they couldn't even see me. that night natalie and i stayed in the best hotel in all of guatemala.
my third encounter happened on a run. i was running on the Kent trails with my friend Jenne. These trails cross roads. some are busy some are not. since it was early in the morning, most of them were not busy. i would only half-heartedly look both ways as we crossed a street (every mother gasps). well, at one corner i looked both ways, but failed to notice the white van that was quickly approaching. Jenne stopped. I kept going. i remember that i had an instant dilemma in my mind. it lasted only a millisecond. i thought, "why did she stop? why did she stop? why did she stop? why am i still running? what's coming?" it was then when it felt like i hit a wall. no, the truck did not hit me. i think an angel did. i think my angel spread it's arms and legs and created a barrier. and i ran into him and got stopped cold. i stopped so fast my knee even buckled. i looked to my left just as that white van was screeching and skidding around me, leaving burning rubber marks in its wake. i turned around to find Jenne wide-eyed saying, "what are you doing?" just testing my angels i guess...
my fourth encounter happened recently. it involved me, my kitchen, boiling milk, and a blender. i was trying to make this mexican hot chocolate that we received as a christmas gift. to make it you need to heat up the milk, cut the chocolate into chunks, put it all into the blender, and then blend your way to a cup of warm, sweet bliss. now, i've always had problems with blenders. so you can imagine the next few events. i had tested the milk and it was hot. it was boiling! so i poured it into the blender onto my cut chocolate chunks. i put the lid on. i pressed blend. suddenly the lid shot up to the ceiling and this bubble of hot chocolatey milk burst upwards into my face and onto my outstretched arms. i screamed b/c the whole thing scared the crap out of me. brett came in an immediately started laughing. i was covered from the top of my head to my toes in chocolate milk. it was dripping from my head and smeared across my glasses. my exposed arms, where my sleeves had been pushed back, were already becoming sticky with this sweet mess i had created. it must have been quite a sight! i went upstairs to wash up. that's when i noticed the slight tingling sensation on my arms and face. i rinsed off with cold water. then i saw this bright red line across my left arm. a burn. i checked the rest of my exposed skin for burns. nothing. no burns on my face. none on my hands. the rest of my arms were ok. the tingling that i felt was where the boiling hot milk had got me. but, there was just that one, thin, red line across my forearm. to me, it was my angel saying "this is what could have happened." i'm kind of fond of my burn.
i like believing in angels. i like to think about those instances in my life where things could have gone differently. then i like to blame my safety on these huge heavenly beings that play trumpets every time they score. keep praying for my protection mom...i think it's working. -SN
posted by SN at 4:36 AM
2 Comments:
Do you write anywhere outside of your blog? You're good.
boy, that's Brett for you isn't it? Something goes wrong, and his first impulse is to laugh at you...Actually getting covered in chocolate does sound pretty funny though.
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