Do You Believe In Angels? ... I Do!
Author: Dan Scarborough
Early on Christmas Eve seventeen years ago, when funds were very low for the whole family, I received a phone call from my daughter who lived in Alabama at that time. We had invited her, her husband and our first grandchild to come to our home for Christmas. She told me that their old car had broken down and even though they could patch it up to “get to the store,” they did not feel they could negotiate the two “mountain ranges” between Scottsboro, AL and Marietta, GA. I volunteered to drive over to Scottsboro in our old clunker to pick up the three of them (our daughter, her husband, and their “nearly” year-old son..... now a teenager.)
On the way, while I was driving along a straight, level stretch of road in the midst of a beginning snow storm... for no reason at all, the car began to hydroplane. While traveling at 55 MPH the car made two complete revolutions in the middle of the road, all the time continuing down the middle of the highway.
Needless to say, I was praying aloud asking for protection in my situation.... eventually the car began drifting off to the right as it slowed (I had long since lifted my foot from the accelerator.) Slowly, the car slid towards a ditch and a steep bank that rose immediately on the other side of the ditch.
The car finally came to an uneasy stop with a small jolt... nose first into the bank.
When I got out, I realized there was no traffic and no visible homes or businesses in sight in either direction. I was wondering what to do next as I walked to the front of the car to see what damage had been done. Suddenly, I heard a slight noise behind me. A pick-up appeared out of nowhere and a smiling, bearded, burly guy with a cigar clenched firmly in his mouth rolled out from behind the steering wheel and walked up to me.
We spoke briefly about the situation. I told him about the purpose of my trip and asked him about the store I had seen approximately three miles behind me. I asked him if he could give me a lift there to see if they could find a wrecker. He said the store had closed early for “Christmas Eve” and offered to see what he could do. He quickly figured out a way to pull my vehicle out of the ditch. There was no damage we could see, so he offered to follow me to a garage he knew about, five miles in the direction of Scottsboro, where we could check for undercarriage damage.
When we pulled up to the garage, I spoke briefly with him and offered to give him what cash I had for his help. He refused and told me to have a good time with my family Christmas Eve. Just before I walked towards the garage door to go in to speak to the owner, I asked him what kind of work he did. He grinned as he shifted the cigar to one side of his mouth to reply, “I’m a carpenter.” I noticed then his carpentry tools in the bed of his pickup, thanked him again for his help, and walked into the garage.
The owner looked up from his desk, then asked where I came from and how I had found him. I replied, “The guy behind me in the pickup truck brought me here.”
The owner then said, “What guy? I watched you from the window as you came up the road. After you pulled over, I assumed you were going to come in so I tended to some paperwork while I was waiting for you. I heard you talking after you got out of your car and wondered who you were talking to... but, buddy, there ain’t no ‘guy’ out there.” I turned around. He was right. My “benefactor” was gone. I assumed the owner wasn’t really paying attention, but didn’t argue with him.
When we went outside to look at my car, the owner pointed to the snow behind my car. “See!” he said, “The only tire tracks here are your own.”
Then I described the man with the beard to the garage owner thinking he might know this local carpenter. He said there was no carpenter he knew of in the small town. He laughed and said, “Sounds like you may have some kind of angel following you.... but I’ve never heard of a cigar-chewing angel!” He then told me there was “absolutely nothing wrong with the car” and wished me “Merry Christmas” as I got behind the steering wheel to continue my trip.
I finally got to Scottsboro and picked up our little “Christmas family” (Jonathan was born the day after Christmas a year earlier) and headed back to Marietta. I made sure to tell the details of my experience to Angela and David when we came back down the same stretch of road on the way back home. Charlene had prepared “Christmas” for and was anxiously awaiting our return. Charlene was as amazed as I had been when I repeated this story in our living room in front of a warm fire in the fireplace. The Scarborough family now has our very own “Christmas Angel” legend to pass down to our heirs.
(Now, I’m pretty sure that the “carpenter” was not Jesus... maybe just a “helper,” but I’ll never forget my “Christmas Angel.” I’m convinced that he was there when my car spun out of control and that he had his hand on me and the old Pontiac. That the car was so easily moved to the side of the road with no damage at all continues to amaze me. I never pass that location on the way to Scottsboro without my eyes seeking out the exact location where my car came to a stop.)
Dan Scarborough, CLTCdanscarborough@thefamilyisp.com
http://seniorsandfamilies.short-term-health.net
“Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” -Heb 13:2
Author: Dan Scarborough
Early on Christmas Eve seventeen years ago, when funds were very low for the whole family, I received a phone call from my daughter who lived in Alabama at that time. We had invited her, her husband and our first grandchild to come to our home for Christmas. She told me that their old car had broken down and even though they could patch it up to “get to the store,” they did not feel they could negotiate the two “mountain ranges” between Scottsboro, AL and Marietta, GA. I volunteered to drive over to Scottsboro in our old clunker to pick up the three of them (our daughter, her husband, and their “nearly” year-old son..... now a teenager.)
On the way, while I was driving along a straight, level stretch of road in the midst of a beginning snow storm... for no reason at all, the car began to hydroplane. While traveling at 55 MPH the car made two complete revolutions in the middle of the road, all the time continuing down the middle of the highway.
Needless to say, I was praying aloud asking for protection in my situation.... eventually the car began drifting off to the right as it slowed (I had long since lifted my foot from the accelerator.) Slowly, the car slid towards a ditch and a steep bank that rose immediately on the other side of the ditch.
The car finally came to an uneasy stop with a small jolt... nose first into the bank.
When I got out, I realized there was no traffic and no visible homes or businesses in sight in either direction. I was wondering what to do next as I walked to the front of the car to see what damage had been done. Suddenly, I heard a slight noise behind me. A pick-up appeared out of nowhere and a smiling, bearded, burly guy with a cigar clenched firmly in his mouth rolled out from behind the steering wheel and walked up to me.
We spoke briefly about the situation. I told him about the purpose of my trip and asked him about the store I had seen approximately three miles behind me. I asked him if he could give me a lift there to see if they could find a wrecker. He said the store had closed early for “Christmas Eve” and offered to see what he could do. He quickly figured out a way to pull my vehicle out of the ditch. There was no damage we could see, so he offered to follow me to a garage he knew about, five miles in the direction of Scottsboro, where we could check for undercarriage damage.
When we pulled up to the garage, I spoke briefly with him and offered to give him what cash I had for his help. He refused and told me to have a good time with my family Christmas Eve. Just before I walked towards the garage door to go in to speak to the owner, I asked him what kind of work he did. He grinned as he shifted the cigar to one side of his mouth to reply, “I’m a carpenter.” I noticed then his carpentry tools in the bed of his pickup, thanked him again for his help, and walked into the garage.
The owner looked up from his desk, then asked where I came from and how I had found him. I replied, “The guy behind me in the pickup truck brought me here.”
The owner then said, “What guy? I watched you from the window as you came up the road. After you pulled over, I assumed you were going to come in so I tended to some paperwork while I was waiting for you. I heard you talking after you got out of your car and wondered who you were talking to... but, buddy, there ain’t no ‘guy’ out there.” I turned around. He was right. My “benefactor” was gone. I assumed the owner wasn’t really paying attention, but didn’t argue with him.
When we went outside to look at my car, the owner pointed to the snow behind my car. “See!” he said, “The only tire tracks here are your own.”
Then I described the man with the beard to the garage owner thinking he might know this local carpenter. He said there was no carpenter he knew of in the small town. He laughed and said, “Sounds like you may have some kind of angel following you.... but I’ve never heard of a cigar-chewing angel!” He then told me there was “absolutely nothing wrong with the car” and wished me “Merry Christmas” as I got behind the steering wheel to continue my trip.
I finally got to Scottsboro and picked up our little “Christmas family” (Jonathan was born the day after Christmas a year earlier) and headed back to Marietta. I made sure to tell the details of my experience to Angela and David when we came back down the same stretch of road on the way back home. Charlene had prepared “Christmas” for and was anxiously awaiting our return. Charlene was as amazed as I had been when I repeated this story in our living room in front of a warm fire in the fireplace. The Scarborough family now has our very own “Christmas Angel” legend to pass down to our heirs.
(Now, I’m pretty sure that the “carpenter” was not Jesus... maybe just a “helper,” but I’ll never forget my “Christmas Angel.” I’m convinced that he was there when my car spun out of control and that he had his hand on me and the old Pontiac. That the car was so easily moved to the side of the road with no damage at all continues to amaze me. I never pass that location on the way to Scottsboro without my eyes seeking out the exact location where my car came to a stop.)
Dan Scarborough, CLTCdanscarborough@thefamilyisp.com
http://seniorsandfamilies.short-term-health.net
“Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” -Heb 13:2
Feet you can hold on to when you fall,
