The Summer Angel

 

Who’s Looking Out for You?

Shelli Carlisle

About once a week I have to run over to the local Target store.  There is a bench outside which is sheltered from the elements. This bench is where, more times than not, you will find a homeless person or two asking for change. On a good day, eating a bag of popcorn or drinking a cup of coffee a kind hearted person has purchased for them.

Hugs For The Homeless

About a year or so ago, I heard a woman sharing a story about giving hugs to homeless people.  She said that every time she sees a homeless person, she stops, says hello, and gives them a big hug.  She went on to say she was so blessed by the response to her hugs that she realized it was her mission in life to reach out to others with this small gesture of kindness.

Hearing her story made me stop and take a look at these lonely, and often forgotten people in a whole new light. I started to think about their families, and if they were missed.  Where did they lay their heads down when they were tired?  Were they content with their lives, were they loved?  I came to the understanding it is not my place to judge these souls, but it is my responsibility to be kind and offer a smile, a handshake, and a hello.

A New Friend

That’s when I took the time to connect with a fellow spirit.  I had seen him a few times asking for change.  I thought he was in his fifties, but when I took the time to really look at him, he was probably in his thirties.  I wondered what brought him to this place, had he been a family man and was now down on his luck?  Was he a victim of drugs and alcohol or mental illness?  I had no clue but as I passed him, I looked into his eyes and said hello.  He asked me for change and I reached into my pocket and handed him a few coins. He was grateful and thanked me; I felt good.

As weeks, then months, went by I had grown accustomed to seeing him on the bench and I made it a point to always bring change with me.  I wanted to hand it to him before he had to ask. That was my quiet way of showing him respect.  And of course, I always said hello. He never said much back, usually God bless you or thank you.  Sometimes he just nodded.

This became our weekly routine for about a year.  One day I was leaving the store when I noticed that he was visibly upset.  I stopped to say hello and I asked him how he was doing.  Up until then we had never really had a conversation, but this time we did.  He was upset about something that happened to him at church.  He shared with me for about a half an hour and I sat on the bench and listened.  He talked about the government, about church and about other things that didn’t make sense to me, yet I gave him my full attention.

When he was finished, he abruptly dismissed me and disappeared back into his own thoughts.  I thought about him all night and into the next day.

A Moment of Terror

A few days later, my daughter asked if I would babysit my two-year-old grandson while she went out for the evening.  When her friends arrived they all left through the garage.  I kissed her and told her to have a great time.  My grandson, Nathan Angel, played on the floor while I was putting dishes away.  My mind was on other things when I realized I hadn’t heard Nathan’s voice for a minute or two.  I stopped what I was doing and went to see what he was up to.  He was nowhere to be found.  I thought he was playing a game of hide-n-seek so I walked around the house calling his name and peeking into his usual hiding places.

Suddenly it hit me, my daughter left through the garage.  Had she shut the door into the garage tightly?  Had Nathan gotten away that fast and was out in the garage?  As I ran to the garage door, I saw the door was slightly open.  I panicked and ran out into the garage.  What I saw next terrified me.  Not only had the door to the garage been left open, the garage door itself was half way up.  At that instant I heard a car horn honk in the street. I looked out to see Nathan standing in the middle of the street with headlights of a car a couple of feet from his tiny body.

I screamed and ran to the street, then scooped him up into my arms.  The driver had seen him and was able to stop his car.  I ran to the driver with tears running down my face and thanked him. He just sat there and didn’t say a word.  I looked into his eyes and realized that I knew this man.  It was the homeless man I had come to care about, the one who sat on the bench outside of Target.  I thanked him over and over–he just nodded.

The Angel

As I carried Nathan back into the house, I thanked God for the angel He had sent to protect him. I turned to look back one last time, but the car and the man were gone, literally disappeared into thin air. Strong feelings of peace and love washed over me.

I never saw this man again.  Each time I go to Target, I look for him, but he is not there.  I believe angels come in many different forms.  I also believe we owe kindness to each person who crosses our path.  We all have a divine purpose in life. Next time you walk by a homeless person, smile and say hello.  Chances are they need to know someone cares. And, you never know, you might have just entertained an angel.