By Ann Farabee

His struggle with addiction was real. The pain associated with his life choices were pounding and reverberating in his heart that day as he sat by the side of the road. He felt he had one thing to live for – his baby girl who was about to celebrate her 2nd birthday. He loved her fiercely – as well as he knew how – during the throes of his addiction.

He was grateful for the maternal grandparents who were raising her, though his guilt sometimes overwhelmed. He wanted to be with her as often as he was able – but he especially wanted to be in her presence personally presenting her a present on her birthday.

He had gotten a ride to a shopping district in a nearby town – about thirty minutes from home. He hoped to use the few dollars he had saved to buy the perfect gift. Quickly, he realized the paltry amount he had in his pocket would purchase almost nothing.

He had given up, sat down on the curb, and was waiting for his ride home. It never came. He lowered his head and covered his face, as he realized it was another day of defeat. His tears began to flow.

Cars passed. People walked by. He paid no attention. Another car came by, pulled over to the curb, and a man called out, “You need help?” Seconds later, he was in the car of a stranger who insisted on driving him home, and who was listening intently as he shared his story: His struggles. His failure to raise his child. His appreciation for the grandparents who were. The birthday plans. The birthday present he had hoped to give.

A few minutes later, he was dropped off where he was staying at that time, but not before the stranger talked with him about putting his trust in the Lord, and asking for the phone number of the grandparents who were raising his little girl. As he got out of the car, he was handed $500 to buy that special gift – and to encourage him that God – and people – care.

The story did not end there.

The next day, a phone call of encouragement came to the grandparents.

The following day, they received a $500 check.

Some may call this a nice story.

Some may call it a streak of luck.

I call it an angel.

An angel sent to encourage an addict who needed to see God.

An angel sent to encourage a small child who deserved great love.

An angel sent to encourage grandparents who were raising their grandchild.

These words from the song, Angels Among Us, seem fitting:

I believe there are angels among us

Sent down to us from somewhere up above

They come to you and me in our darkest hour

To show us how to live, to teach us how to give

To guide us with the light of love.

That ‘light of love’ is exactly what was put in my heart as I experienced this angel at work – for the family this angel had reached out to was part of my family.

Angels at work.

Be the angel.

See the angel.

It may not show up in $500 increments.

It may be even greater!

Ann is a speaker and teacher. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com