Soon after becoming a
Christian in my mid-thirties we moved back to my home town, Santa Rosa, to
mend/renew relationships with family and old friends. I had been looking for
steady work for almost a year and we had become regular members in a very large
church (2,000-3,000 families) and we were very active in it, almost never
missing a service or an activity. We joined the Young Marrieds group in the
church and met weekly with a small group of other young families for prayer and
worship.
About a year after returning to Santa Rosa, we had our first child, Daniel, our very active little boy. Although Software Development contracts were very rare, the network of new friends that we made was considerable, and since I was willing to do yard work, carpentry and construction, I was often asked if I would like to help nail down some shingles, wash some windows or weed some gardens. This helped keep me in a variety of little jobs from a day or two to a week or two, usually banging nails. My mom had a rental that had been badly mistreated by the previous renters. Almost every window was broken, rugs and linoleum torn and the wooden floor scratched and stained.
We needed a place to live, so I provided the labor while my mom's Sears credit card provided the parts and materials. This way, we got 'free' rent in a large, old but nice home as I fixed it up. One problem that the credit card wasn't big enough to handle was the old garage, especially the roof, which was completely gone in many places. Thankfully, the house itself was completely finished before mom's credit card was maxed out and like new inside. Plus, we had a new baby, Daniel, to share it with! We were very contented - but the garage bothered me. I wanted to finish what we had started.
Now that I had finished the house - sanded and refinished the hardwood floors, painted from top to bottom, and replaced all the broken windows - and maxed out the credit card for materials, we were stuck. I had barely gotten word back from mom that her credit card couldn't handle the shingles for a roof, even one as small as the little garage when Wayne Bass, a close friend that I prayed with 2 or 3 times a week, called from the church. Would I help with tearing down an old barn to help make way for the new church? I was in between the tattered pieces of little jobs here and there banging nails and hoeing weeds, so I said "sure!".
I was less sure the next day at 7AM when he picked me up, but thought the day would go fast. Unfortunately, it was a scorcher. April made a small sandwich for me, and apologized for not making more as I hugged and kissed her and jumped in the truck. I'd be fine - it was just one day. Thankfully, the foreman of the 'crew' kept jugs of water coming, so we all had plenty to drink as we tore apart the old, musty barn. It was huge, and the sunshine pouring in through the big holes in the roof reminded me all day long of our little garage. It was like they were related. I kept trying to think of ways that I could fix mom's garage roof every time I was grateful for the sunlight pouring in so that I could see what I was doing.
I was so hungry at lunchtime that the sandwich only took two bites, and I realized once again that April knew me better than I knew myself. I wished I had two sandwiches - or three! I filled up with water and went back to work. Finally, the sun was setting and people starting driving off in twos and threes, just as they had arrived. I had arrived in a pickup with Wayne, sitting in the back on a pile of tools, and kept waiting for a signal to jump into it. No signal. Finally, my nerve broke and I asked Wayne when, if ever, we were going to leave. "Oh, that's a surprise!" he said, and just smiled at me. Wayne was very good looking, and he had great teeth and a perfect smile. I was just charmed enough that I dropped it and went back to work. Finally, Wayne said, "Let's go - we've got one more job to do, but it won't take long - then we can go home". My stomach growled at him, so I didn't say anything more. That was enough.
We hopped in the bed of the pickup and the driver roared off around behind the back of the big barn. Stacks of big sheets of corrugated tin were lined up behind the back of the building. "That was the roof of the old barn - we took it off last week" Wayne said. "We need go get rid of it somehow - could you use it for any repairs at your mom's house?" I was overjoyed, jumped out of the pickup, pulled on my gloves and started sorting through the sheets of tin. Every 4th or 5th one was perfect, no rust - just a few previous nail holes that could be easily puttied over, if need be. Wayne helped me and before long we had more than enough sheets of tin stacked up in the pickup to cover the whole roof, the back doors, and one side that was particularly shot. That old garage was going to be watertight!!!
The driver was patient, and said nothing till we had finished loading the pickup. Off we drove to our house. I held on to that big, high stack of tin all the way home to steady it at every turn. Wayne helped me stack it all inside the garage when we got there, and drove off. By the time I went in the house, I was both exhausted, famished, and very happy. April was busy with the kids (Daniel 3 and Ruthie 1) in their little bedroom, so I rummaged around in the kitchen for something to eat. This was usually April's domain, so I didn't know where to look, but I didn't want to bother her.
I heard giggles and laughter and other signs of one of those good moments, too precious to interrupt over just food. I started with the refrigerator, but it just had water and some baby food. Then I opened cupboard after cupboard in the kitchen. To my amazement, not one of the food cupboards had anything in it, except for one near empty bag of oatmeal. It looked like there was just enough for one bowl, maybe two. I rechecked everything, had a drink of water, and sat down in the setting sun by the window, where I could look out over our garden and see the garage roof, filled with holes that I would plug tomorrow. I could just barely see part of the stacks of corrugated tin that we had unloaded through the side of the garage facing the house. It was comforting to know that I would have all the garage problems fixed soon, and all the work on Mom's house would be done. But what about dinner? Did I want to eat the oatmeal? I stared at the garage, feeling more and more contented.
Finally, I closed my eyes and prayed a silent prayer. "Lord, please don't take this wrong. I'm really grateful for the oatmeal, but if you don't mind, I'd rather just not eat anything for dinner tonight." I opened my eyes and the doorbell went "Grrrringgg! Grrringg!" It must be the neighbors across the street. The doorbell was an old one that you had to rotate clockwise to make it ring. It was all mechanical. Most people on the first try just made funny clicks, but with practice, you could make it sound really great. People loved that old doorbell, once they got the hang of it. I ran to the door, since the ring had kind of an urgent sound, and threw it open.
A nice looking fellow in a brown business suit stood there, holding two large brown shopping bags, one in each arm. He had sandy brown hair, brown eyes, a new brown suit that looked new and well tailored - and all in all, looked like a nice fellow. In fact, he was so nice looking, clean and well dressed that he could almost be a movie star or celebrity - but he seemed in a hurry. "Can I come in" he asked, looking a little rushed. "Sure", I said, and threw the door open wide so he could come in with both bags in his arms. He stepped right by me, right up to the couch, and put both bags down on it. Then he stepped to one side and looked down into one of the bags. I stepped up to the couch and looked down into the bags too. One had a huge chunk of meat in it, and the other had one big can of grapefruit juice, the size can that holds about two quarts.
I said "What?" and looked up to ask the man what was going on, but he wasn't there. I looked around the room, then jumped outside the door (in my youth I did everything instantly, without thinking). I looked up and down the street. No cars moving, no screech of tires, nothing. I looked at the grass, that was long and still a little wet. No shoe marks, no trail going through the lawn one way or the other. The gravel driveway was so scrunchy that he couldn't be running down it. Where had he gone? I ran up and down the block, trying to find him crouched behind a shrub or car or something, then gave up and went back to the house.
April roasted the meat, and it was delicious. I drank almost the whole can of grapefruit juice in one long series of gulps. I was so happy that if I was a puppy, I would have run around in circles chasing my tail. I was full, in every possible meaning of the word. April was full, too, there was plenty for both of us. "Who was it?" she finally asked. "Who brought the food to us, and why?" "I don't know" I said. "I never saw him before. Besides, I didn't even know we were out of food until tonight. How did we get so low without me knowing it?" "Well, you were always working, and I kept figuring you'd either get paid or something would come up at the right time if we needed it. I guess I was right!" she added with a smile.
In those days, I went to prayer meetings almost every day. For about a month or two, at every prayer meeting, I would describe the nice looking man in the brown suit with brown hair and brown eyes. About 5'10" or so, regular build, looked athletic. Did anybody know such a person that might have brought me the food that day? I wanted to thank him for it, that was all.
Wayne was at every meeting with me, so I guess he got tired of it. After one prayer meeting, when I started describing the nice fellow that had brought the food to us that night, he just started laughing, from deep down in his gut, really loud. He kept laughing and laughing. I started getting a little embarrassed, because I didn't know what he was laughing about. He was usually really reserved. Finally I made him stop enough to look at me, and I said "Wayne, what's wrong with you? Why are you laughing so hard? What's so funny?"
He just smiled at me with a kindly, grandfatherly smile (but he was only about 2 or 3 years older than me). "Leo", he said, "Everybody knows that it was an angel that brought you that food. We just wanted you to figure it out for yourself. Why can't you see it? You told us yourself that he 'just wasn't there' when you looked up - but there were no sounds of running, no footsteps, no car squealing away! No footsteps on the grass - nothing!! You've told the story so many times that we all figured out what happened. We've all tried to find him, and looked for him, but none of us could find him for you. Anybody that might come close to matching that description was miles away doing something else, believe me. I've looked, and had Merle and others looking, and we are all convinced your visitor was an angel - so face it and stop looking for him. If he want's to be thanked, I suppose he'll show up again. Until then, I think you should try thanking the Lord!!
Wayne went back to laughing, but a little more calmly, while I thought about it. In the end, I figured it was at least as plausible as jumping into a hot air balloon tied to the top of the porch, or any of the other wild things I'd tried to figure out (hot air balloons went over our house sometimes. I knew the 'whoosh' they made when they took off, and I hadn't heard anything at all, so that was out, too). I decided to just accept it. Imagine that. God sent me an angel to deliver meat and grapefruit juice for dinner - the two things that I had been craving deep down in my bones, but that I hadn't even mentioned to April. There was just exactly enough for April and I that night. We finished it all, and we were both perfectly satisfied.
For me, the real point of this story isn't that God sent an angel to bring food to me - and it's certainly not that I'm so dense that everybody was laughing at how slow I was to get it. The real point is that if God did that for me, as totally undeserving as I am, then I know that He does it for others, as regular as clockwork. The point is, you see, that the angels come, but (just like me) we don't see them. As the scripture says, we sometimes "entertain angels, unaware". We don't see them as angels - we see them as common, ordinary, nice people. We might even see them as somebody likable that we want to find, so we can thank them for helping us in a time of need. I was just lucky I had some help getting my eyes opened!!
At that point, it occurred to me - How many angels have I been around, helped by, or entertained - but, not noticed, and "not seen"?
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