Jack Canfield - Angels Among Us: 101 Inspirational Stories of Miracles, Faith, and Answered Prayers

Angels are never too distant to hear you.

~Author Unknown

I t was summer and I was twelve. My friend and I had been walking the neighborhood. It was around dusk, or shortly after, because it was the coolest time to be outside. There were plenty of street lights so we never felt in any danger. We were doing what twelve-year-old girls do, chatting, singing, being silly, and just enjoying one anothers company.

On this particular night, we got this eerie feeling that we were being watched. About a block from our street, not wanting to appear afraid, we kept our pace steady, not hurrying.

We should be back on our street in a few minutes, I said.

Yes, our brothers are still outside, riding their bikes, said my friend. This was our way of communicating to our potential watcher that we were safer than we might look.

The next night, while her parents were out, someone tried to break into a bathroom window of my friends house. Her two older brothers frightened him away.

I saw the lights from the police car when they pulled up to my friends house down the street, but I didnt learn what had happened until the next day.

Do you think this was the person watching us yesterday? I asked.

I bet it was, she whispered. Someone was watching to see when the car was gone before they tried to break in.

This man may or may not have been the person who was watching us. In fact we had no proof that anyone was watching us at all, just a gut feeling. Still I feared that he would try to come for me next.

We had many discussions about it over the next week. This was high drama for twelve-year-olds. We were not afraid during the day. It was the nights that we feared. Well, I feared them. My friend had a house full of people at all times. I only had two younger brothers and a mom. My dad was in Vietnam.

We did not have central air, just a window unit in the kitchen. At night, unless it was abnormally hot, we turned it off and opened the windows. I began to keep my windows closed and locked, my curtains pulled. I also pulled the covers up to my chin, a ridiculous safety ploy, but one every child understands. I would lie there, unable to sleep, imagining that someone was watching and waiting.

When I did fall asleep, I would wake up several times a night, usually sweating heavily from the closed windows, the covers, and the fear. I remember reciting a kind of rhyming prayer that I had learned as a very small child: Four corners to my bed. Four angels round my head. One to keep me. One to pray. Two to guide me through each day. I did not want to close my eyes, but fatigue always won out.

One evening, my brothers, my mom and I went to visit with a family down the street. We enjoyed a meal and then played pinochle for a while. Having not slept much, I was the first to grow tired and decided to walk home.

It wasnt long before I noticed that a car was following me down the street. I was right on the curb and the car was not passing. It was keeping pace with me. I didnt want to go back since that was the direction of the car, and I didnt want to run, yet. When I arrived at the bottom of my driveway, I was sure the car would drive past. I was wrong. It followed me up the driveway. As I approached the front door, I heard a car door open and shut behind me.

In our neighborhood, doors were seldom locked unless everyone was settled in for the night. We had been gone and ours were not locked. All of our lights were off. The house, inside and outside, was totally dark. Part of me was afraid to enter the house. Part of me felt an urgency to do so, quickly.

About that time, our next-door neighbor, a Green Beret, pulled into his drive on his motorcycle. It was impossible not to notice him since his motorcycle was pretty loud. He pulled his beret on as he hopped off his bike and waved.

I guess the sight of him must have scared off the driver. I heard the car door open and shut again. I turned just in time to see a dark car pulling out of my driveway. Thankfully, I also saw the rest of my family making their way down the street toward home. I waited on the front porch so we could enter the house together.

Who was that in the driveway? my mother asked me.

I dont know, I replied, but they followed me home.

I dont think so, honey. Why would they follow you? she asked. They were probably just at the wrong house.

I told her the whole story. The feeling someone was watching us. Our take on the break-in down the street. Now this. It was clear that she thought I was letting my imagination run wild.

I added, Mr. M. pulled up on his motorcycle and scared them away.

My mom gave me the strangest look. You know that Mr. M. is in Vietnam with Daddy, she said. Yes, I did know that, but I was so relieved to see him pull into his driveway that I had forgotten. He must be back, I said. He even waved to me.

No, honey, hes not back.

I was not convinced. I had seen him. My mother had to walk me next door to talk with his wife who confirmed that he was still overseas.

That night, after praying and repeating my angel rhyme in my head, I thought about Mr. M. He was there. I saw him and I heard his motorcycle, and so did the person who was following me. Suddenly, I noticed a light at the end of my bed. At first I thought it was an optical illusion, the angle of the streetlight through my curtains. I just lay still and watched it, wondering. A sense of calm slowly flowed through me.

I knew, just as sure as I knew anything in this world, that I was being visited by an angel. God had sent this messenger to me to let me know He was watching over me. Maybe that had been who I had mistaken for Mr. M.

All my fear dissipated. I tossed the covers off, got up and opened the windows to the small, but welcome, breeze. Back in bed, I looked at the foot of my bed. The light was still there, a soft glowing shape. It was the best nights sleep I had in days. No other incidents disturbed those carefree summer days.