Stories of the Power of Spirit
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Then Came a Knock on the Door
you please try to visualize the layout of my home? It is a two
story, cape cod with four rooms on the lower level. A kitchen
and den at the back of the house and a living room and formal
dining room across the front.
living room is warmly decorated for yet another Christmas Eve.
As I stand and look at the tree, with its lopsided ornaments and
lights, I am overwhelmed by feelings of sadness and quite a bit
of anger. My three children, ages 5, 7 and 9 and I had hours of
fun decorating this tree, writing letters to santa and preparing
lunch for him again this year. Now it is time to assemble the
toys, fill the socks, etc.
this year, the children's father has promised to stay sober and
help with this task. He is dead to the world and loudly snoring
and sleeping it off in the den. I look at the toys, one in particular
- a small pool table for my youngest son that needs to be assembled.
Other things need to be arranged or assembled, as well. Again,
I stand alone with this task. I will admit that I felt like just
leaving things the way they were and let the children awake to
a different Christmas. Of course, I would not. I looked out the
window to see the big soft flakes of snow falling. There was not
a breeze. The night was exceptionally peaceful and calm. Tears
started falling and I began to feel sorry for myself.
was a knock at the front door. I opened it to face a young man
of about 30 with fair hair and a tweed suit jacket. He stated
that he had just run his car off the road down the street and
asked if he could use the phone. It was not unusual for cars to
miss the turn at the end of our street. I told him the telephone
was in the kitchen. I was a bit nervous about allowing a stranger
into my home at 1:30 A.M. so I told him my husband was resting
on the couch and to try not to disturb him. As if anything could
disturb him in his state!
then on, these are my only recollections of the rest of the night.
This young man was sitting on the chair in my living room. I can
see his jacket laying over the back of the chair. I know we talked
but I cannot recall one word of the conversation. I can, however,
clearly recall that I smiled and laughed and felt so very much
at peace. Many people have asked me if I asked him questions...what
was his name, where did he come from, etc. I do not know the answer
to that; I just know that I asked him nothing. Hours passed ,
toys were all assembled and placed around the tree, socks were
filled and put at the feet of the children's beds.
he left. The lights were out in the dining room, so I strolled
in there to watch him walk away. As you may have guessed, I saw
nothing. There were no footprints in the new fallen snow and no
one to be seen. I grabbed my boots and went outside into the most
beautiful night. I ran to the spot where he told me he had gone
into the ditch. There was no car and no signs of tracks on the
street. I was not frightened. I was feeling confused but strangely,
very much at peace. I went back home and called the only place
I knew to be open on Christmas Eve. The man at the Government
Garage said he had received no call asking for a tow truck.
and awoke very rested. We enjoyed a wonderful Christmas. I told
no one this story and months went by. Another Christmas was on
the horizon and early Christmas Eve, as I walked by the telephone,
I instinctively picked it up - it did not ring- and it was the
voice of that young man who helped me the previous Christmas.
All he said was..."do you need me this year?" My response
was a very quiet and grateful "no, thank you, not this year".
He called every year on Christmas Eve until my youngest son reached
the age of 14.
sent me an angel. I will always feel so blessed.
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