The Angels Among Us

I arrived at the food market early this morning in a down mood. Already overwhelmed by work calling for attention, I didn’t need another job to add to my list, but the refrigerator and cupboard shelves were looking pretty bare. “Save the self-pity,” I told myself. “At least you have the ability to replenish those shelves.”

Masked and maintaining a “safe” distance from other shoppers when I could, I briskly navigated the aisles and headed for the checkout stands with a fully loaded cart.

I was greeted by a “young” man (could have been in his forties, but from the viewpoint of the eighties it’s decidedly young) who seemed determined to lighten my mood. He chatted with me from behind his mask as he scanned my groceries, and at one point picked up a bag of apples and showed me one that was badly bruised. Another employee was summoned to bring a fresh bag.

When we completed my transaction, I thanked Brian, noting his nametag and using his name.

By the time I wheeled my loaded cart to the parking lot and began loading my groceries into the trunk of my car, my day was looking a bit brighter. And it was about to get brighter still. Suddenly Brian appeared beside me, holding a small potted poinsettia I had paid for but neglected to pick up off the counter before I left. I thanked him once again.

But the angels among us hadn’t finished offering their blessings.

While I was loading my groceries into the trunk of my car, I was aware of a Native American man standing at the intersection of the road and the parking lot, next to the entrance. He was playing a drum and chanting. His presence was, in fact, enchanting. The words that come to mind to describe him are radiant energy.

As I opened the door to get into my car, he called, “Your trunk is open.” And indeed it was. I waved and closed it.

I didn’t have my purse or wallet with me—only my driver’s license and credit card. All the cash I had in the car were two one dollar bills in the console.

As I passed the drummer, I lowered the window and offered him the two bills, telling him from behind my mask that it was all the cash I had. He wasn’t wearing a mask, and the smile on his face turned up the wattage of the morning as he accepted the bills. “It’s the thought that counts,” he said. As I rolled up the car window, he added, “I love you.”

And I felt the love.

Whoever we are, whatever our circumstances, even in the darkest of times, angels walk among us, ready to shine their light on our world if we’re open to receiving it.

The best news is that we can become one of them by offering the simple acts of kindness I was blessed with today.