Angels Among Us

Angels Among UsI truly believe there are angels among us. Whether they are loved ones who have passed on and are now watching over us, or they are people around us who have a good heart and kind spirit. Either way, I know that angels exist.

Several years ago I had an eye-opening experience. As a young mother of two small children I often needed to get out of the house and break up the day to day routine. On this particular day, I decided to go to the mall. We had just finished our shopping and were walking over to the elevator (my four-year-old son, Corbin, was walking a few steps ahead of me while I pushed my eight-month-old son in the stroller). Corbin excitedly pushed the elevator button and we waited until the giant doors slowly opened. We moved to the side as a large group of people exited the elevator. By the time they were out of the way, the elevator doors were already closing. I rushed forward and put my hand out to stop the doors, but the strength of them forced me to withdraw my hand. In that moment,a thought flashed through my mind about how powerful those doors were. Thick and heavy, the metal doors would have closed on my hand had I not pulled it out.

Frustrated, I pushed the elevator button again and as they opened for the second time, I heard an ear-piercing scream. It was Corbin. His arm was caught in between the heavy metal doors and the wall. Somehow, he must have laid his hand on the metal doors and as they opened they took his hand and then his arm back with them into the invisible place where the doors go when they open. Problem was, that tiny space in between the doors and wall wasn’t large enough for an arm and his little arm was being pulled back in there and crushed at the same time. I screamed for help not knowing what to do. I tried to pull his arm out, but he screamed in pain. I felt helpless. Alone. And scared.

From out of nowhere appeared three very large and incredibly strong men. I don’t remember much about them, but I do know that they were strong. They pushed against the elevator door trying to create enough space to pull Corbin’s arm out as Corbin cried out in pain. My gut wrenched and tears ran down my cheeks as two women rushed to my side to comfort me. My baby screamed in the stroller but all I could think about was Corbin and the pain he was in. I had no idea how his arm would look when it was finally pulled free. I pictured a mangled stump and fought back waves of nausea.

Finally, the men pulled Corbin free and I gathered him into my arms as he cried. Miraculously, his arm didn’t look as bad as I had feared. It was flattened which made me concerned about broken bones, but it wasn’t the mangled mess I had pictured.

When I looked around to thank the men, I realized they were gone. They had disappeared as quickly as they had come and I never even had a chance to thank them.

I rushed Corbin to the hospital and waited for the x-ray results. The doctor declared it a miracle that he had no broken bones, only a contusion. It was a miracle. A miracle indeed.

I often reflect back to that day. Who were those men? Where did they come from? How did they get there so fast? I don’t have those answers, but what I do know is that I believe in angels. I am thankful for ALL the “angels” who walk among us. I’m thankful for the “angel” at the grocery store who offers my crying boys a cookie. I’m thankful for the “angel” in the checkout line who insists on helping me to my car with my overflowing cart of groceries and several cranky children. But most of all, I’m thankful for those moments when I have the opportunity to be someone else’s “angel”.

Story written by: Kristin Smith

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This story appeared first on Real Imprints.