Angels Among Us >> >> >>In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and >>just 75 >>cents in my pocket. Their father was gone. The boys ranged from three >>months >>to seven years; their sister was two. Their Dad had never been much >>more >>than a presence they feared. Whenever they heard his tires crunch on >>the >>gravel >>driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds. He did manage >>to >>leave 15 dollars a week to buy groceries. >> >>Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but >>no >>food either. If there was a welfare system in effect in southern >>Indiana at >>that time, I certainly knew nothing about it. >> >> >>I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my >>best >>homemade dress. I loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove >>off to >>find a job. The seven of us went to every factory, store and >>restaurant in >>our small town. No luck. The kids stayed, crammed into the car and >>tried to >>be quiet while I tried to convince whomever would listen that I was >>willing >>to learn or do anything. I had to have a job. Still no luck. >> >>The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old >>Root >>Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was >>called >>the >>Big Wheel. An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out >>of >>the window from time to time at all those kids. She needed someone on >>the >>graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning. >> >>She paid 65 cents an hour and I could start that night. I raced home >>and >>called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people. I >>bargained >>with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could >>arrive >>with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep. This seemed >>like a >>good arrangement to her, so we made a deal. That night when the little >>ones >>and I knelt to say our prayers we all said our thanks for finding >>Mommy a >>job. >> >>And so I started at the Big Wheel. When I got home in the mornings I >>woke >>the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip >>money-fully >>half >>of what I averaged every night. As the weeks went by, heating bills >>added >>another strain to my meager wage. >> >>The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and >>began >>to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again >>every >>morning >>before I could go home. One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to >>the car >>to go >>home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires! There was no >>note, no >>nothing, just those beautiful brand new tires. >> >>Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered. >> >>I made a deal with the owner of the local service station. In exchange >>for >>his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember it >>took >>me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the >>tires. I >>was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough. >> >>Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for >>the >>kids. I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting >>some old >>toys. Then I hid them in the basement so there would be something for >>Santa >>to deliver on Christmas morning. Clothes were a worry too. >> >>I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys pants and soon they >>would be too far gone to repair. >> >>On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big >>Wheel. >>These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper >>named >>Joe. >> >>A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were >>dropping nickels in the pinball machine. The regulars all just sat >>around >>and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get >>home >>before the sun came up. >> >>When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas >>morning I >>hurried to the car. I was hoping the kids wouldn't wake up before I >>managed >>to get home and get the presents from the basement and place them >>under the >>tree. (We had cut down a small cedar tree by the side of the road down >>by >>the dump.) >> >>It was still dark and I couldn't see much, but there appeared to be >>some >>dark shadows in the car-or was that just a trick of the night? >>Something >>certainly looked different, but it was hard to tell what. >> >>When I reached the car I peered warily into one of the side windows. >>Then >>my jaw dropped in amazement. My old battered Chevy was full-full to >>the top >>with boxes of all shapes and sizes. I quickly opened the driver's side >>door, >>scrambled inside and kneeled in the front facing the back seat. >>Reaching >>back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. >> >>Inside was a whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked >>inside >>another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans. Then I peeked >>inside some of the other boxes: There were candy and nuts and bananas >>and >>bags of >>groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables >>and >>potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and >>flour. >>There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items. And >>there were >>five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll. >> >>As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the >>most >>amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude. And I >>will >>never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious >>morning. >> >>Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all >>hung >>out at the Big Wheel truck stop. >> >>I BELIEVE IN ANGELS! They live next door, around the corner, work in >>your >>office, patrol your neighborhood, call you at midnight to hear you >>laugh and >> >> >>listen to you cry, teach your children, and you see them everyday >>without >>even knowing it!. Send this to someone you think is an angel! >>

-- Roland (nottelling@nowhere.com), November 17, 1999

Answers

I apologize for the formatting...the message remains...

R.

-- Roland (nottelling@nowhere.com), November 17, 1999.

bah humbug!

-- Rusty (razor@blades.in stockings), November 17, 1999.

Roland,

Thanks for your efforts on the forum.

I'd also like to thank those scouts and others here that 'do a good turn daily'. One never knows when they may be on the business end of misfortune.

-- flora (***@__._), November 17, 1999.

Thanks Roland. That's a keeper.

I believe in angels too.

-- snooze button (alarmclock_2000@yahoo.com), November 17, 1999.

I am a single mother. I have started working when I was 16 (part time.) I now work two jobs. One year, when my children were small, my engine blew up. I had no money to repair it. I live in a rural area and there is no mass transit (bus.) A neighbor helped me get to work temporarily.

I don't know them, but a group of business people in Chicago sent me a check for $500.00 out of the blue. I will never know how they came to know my problem. Yes, there are angels....

-- blessings (blessings@blessings.blessings), November 17, 1999.

Beautiful, Thankfully never had the need for Christmas gifts from "Angels", but have been "graced" by human Angels who offered me a word of kindness, when I most needed it.

-- Not there now (beendown@thedumps.com), November 17, 1999.

Now wipe away the tears and laugh a little!!!!

Poem by an Old Timer

A computer was something on TV From a science fiction show of note. A window was something you hated to clean.... And ram was the cousin of a goat.....

Meg was the name of my girlfriend And gig was a job for the nights Now they all mean different things And that really mega bytes

An application was for employment A program was a TV show A cursor used profanity A keyboard was a piano

Memory was something that you lost with age A CD was a bank account And if you had a 3 " floppy You hoped nobody found out

Compress was something you did to the garbage Not something you did to a file And if you unzipped anything in public You'd be in jail for a while

Log on was adding wood to the fire Hard drive was a long trip on the road A mouse pad was where a mouse lived And a backup happened to your commode

Cut you did with a pocket knife Paste you did with glue A web was a spider's home And a virus was the flu

I guess I'll stick to my pen and paper And the memory in my head I hear nobody's been killed in a computer crash But when it happens they wish they were dead!

-- J D Hald (Rhymer@poetry.com), November 17, 1999.

Thanks, Roland, you're an angel.(story makes me think of a song by Blackfoot called "Send Me An Angel")

-- Doorbaby (tomG@heaven.com), November 17, 1999.

I am not a Christian, do not celebrate Christmas, and thus do not ever donate for that religious holiday.

If one wanted to help another with any sincerity it'd have been yesterday, last week, or two months ago.

If one wanted to sincerely reward a child it'd have been yesterday, last week, or two months ago.

If one wanted to sincerely be especially religious upon a day it'd have been yesterday, last week, or two months ago.

If one wants to be of some help to others Y2K is swiftly and aggressively approaching, and one will have too dangerously many chances to be that help.

Just cooling it on the "I'm going to let my mother starve" is a lot in itself.

I don't believe in angels. I've met too many fine homo sapiens, full of quirks, habits that annoy oneself, and imperfections all struggling along to be decent and uplifted human beings in some form or another. They always do what they are personally capable of doing mentally, emotionally, developmentally, or from within environmental limitations.

-- Paula (chowbabe@pacbell.net), November 17, 1999.

Thanks Roland. wonderful story. Reminds me of this "angel" i knew in Maine. Her name was Rose and she lived in Falmouth. Very active in her church and in caring for people. She was very poor and if I remember correctly she had a bunch of children and was a single parent. She did housecleaning and worked alot of hours. She couldn't do enough for others, however. I remember them telling the story about how they delivered a Thanksgiving basket to her only to have her go right out the back door before they had even left to go nextdoor to her even poorer neighbor and share what she had received.

-- tt (cuddluppy@yahoo.com), November 18, 1999.

sorry to hear you don't believe in angels. i do. not the "new age" angels that we can control and sit on our shoulders and live in little gift shops but the real ones who love us and watch over us and help god help us. hearing a series by john mccarthur on "god, satan, and angels" has revolutionized my disposition to fear. if anyone wants to hear about the real ones and how beautiful and amazing they are, go to this web site and check out david jeremiah's current series on them. wonderfully encouraging just before y2k. i am taping them for use during y2k.

http://www.icrn.com/turning_point/archives.asp (look for the angel series that started 11/15/99)

-- tt (cuddluppy@yahoo.com), November 18, 1999.

Roland, very nice. Thank you. I believe in angels too.

And on a lighter note, thought I would add this.

Good judgment comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgment.

If you're ridin' ahead of the herd, take a look back every now and then to make sure it's still there.

If you get to thinkin' you're a person of some influence, try orderin' somebody else's dog around.

After eating an entire bull, a mountain lion felt so good he started roaring. He kept it up until a hunter came along and shot him. The moral:
When you're full of bull, keep your mouth shut.

Never kick a cow chip on a hot day.

There's two theories to arguin' with a woman, neither one works.

If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop diggin'.

Never slap a man who's chewin' tobacco.

It don't take a genius to spot a goat in a flock of sheep.

Always drink upstream from the herd.

When you give a lesson in meanness to a critter or a person, don't be surprised if they learn their lesson.

The quickest way to double your money is fold it over and put it back in your pocket.

Never miss a good chance to shut up.

There are three kinds of folks:
The one that learns by reading.
The few who learn by observation.
The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence for themselves.

Don't squat with your spurs on.

-- flb (fben4077@yahoo.com), November 18, 1999.

Thought this one might apply to some folks around here, if you know what I mean. ;-)

There are three kinds of folks: The one that learns by reading. The few who learn by observation. The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence for themselves.

-- flb (fben4077@yahoo.com), November 18, 1999.

Roland, thank you so much for sharing this story with us at this time.

Paula, you entirely missed the point of the story, in what seems your sad and perpetual bitterness...the "homo sapiens" WERE the angels who helped the mother and children in the story!!!

And...they helped BEFORE Christmas also...those tires in the car, remember? Christmas is just a time when more people THINK about giving and DO IT than at any other time of year, Paula.

As the child of a single mother who struggled just like the one in the story, and who also gave more than she got to others she considered "more" in need (though we never could figure out how she thought that, when we didn't have anything!), my two brothers and I were the beneficiaries of a number of homo sapien "angels" in our lifetime, without whom we might not be alive and contributing members of society today.

If I could give you a gift at this moment, it would be the gift of peace within your heart, and a removal of some of the pain and hurt that a former post explained came from your childhood hurt...and a homo sapien "angel" to bless your life.

-- Elaine Seavey (Gods1sheep@aol.com), November 18, 1999.

Big hug, Roland! Thank you for the beautiful post, it really helps seeing what the "real" perspective should be. :-)

-- Deb M. (vmcclell@columbus.rr.com), November 18, 1999.