How I Met My Guardian Angel

How I Met My Guardian Angel

November 22, 2002:
The Day God Sent Me My Sign

My guardian angel was a sign from God. This was the day I found my true path in life, the day God gave me back my faith. This time it would be sealed within the very seat of my soul. From this day on, I would never be in a place of fear. The foundation would be set, building the person I was born to be.

I was born to shine, just like you! It is my path in this lifetime to bring the light of unconditional love to the souls that need me to help them, to be of service to the love and light of God.

From darkness to light. I woke up, and the morning was still. I started my day by asking God to bring me a sign. It was cold outside, so I put on my snow gear and then went upstairs for some breakfast before my morning shift. I felt happy. The day felt different. I can’t explain it.

My aunt Tammy is a great cook and always had something special for my breakfast. She also packed me a lunch every day for work. They really did spoil me. They treated me just like their own kids, only I was a twenty-something-year-old kid! I loved it all the same.

I had started to think about Christmas—it was only around the corner. My thoughts turned to my family. I don’t know why, but Christmas wasn’t my favorite time of the year. Yet I was looking forward to spending it with Brian and Tammy and their kids.

The gas station where I worked was only a five-minute walk from my home, so I usually left about ten minutes before my shift started. As I finished up my breakfast, the house started to get busy with the kids. My aunt looked after another couple of kids as well, so things were all go for her at this time of the morning. I grabbed my coat and headed out the front door, shouting back to them, “See you later!”

As I walked to work, I thought about my life yet again, wondering if this lost feeling would ever go away. I asked God some of the same questions again: Where am I going? Are you real? Please tell me. What is my purpose?

When I arrived at work, my boss had already opened up. He wasn’t going to stay for long as he had a busy morning. He gave me my till float for the day and left. The morning was slow, but I didn’t mind. I alternated between tending to the pumps and the shop. I was getting used to seeing the familiar faces that stopped for fuel. Most of them were regulars—the garage always seemed to have the best prices around.

When that garage got busy, it was really busy. I got good tips, which my boss found funny because it wasn’t something people normally did. I didn’t complain though! The extra cash came in handy.

The morning was passing by so fast, and I had a good, steady flow coming in and out of the garage. Then out of nowhere, it got very busy. I was run off my feet. My boss came back, which was unusual. He said he was driving by, saw how busy it was, and decided to stop and give me a hand. He took some cash off me as there was no safe to keep it in. I could be carrying a couple of thousand dollars or more at any given time. He hung around for about twenty minutes until things quieted down, and off he went.

The gas pumps were old and dated. If you can imagine, they had three different speeds: five, ten, and fifteen. The fuel would pump faster or slower depending on what speed was set. I would set the pump speed according to the amount of fuel going in so I could keep all the cars moving at a steady pace. I was going full steam ahead.

My ankle and neck were sore from the cold weather. I was soldiering on, though, with a good old, hardworking, Irish spirit! I stood in the center of the island where the pumps were. In the middle of the busyness, a particular car pulled in; I remember it because all the other cars were new and modern, but this car was a long one; a brown estate; and unlike the other cars, older. It pulled to the front pump on the left side.

My mind was focused on getting all the cars filled as quickly as possible. I made my way around to the driver’s window to ask how much she wanted me to put in. I noticed that the car, despite its age, looked to be in perfect condition. The paintwork was like new. The window opened slowly but not fully, and I heard a very soft voice: “Can you put twenty dollars in please?” She had a glow about her.

I walked around to open the cap to put the pump in. A warm feeling started to come over me, but in the busyness of the station, I didn’t have time to think about it fully. I went to tend to the other cars, some of which were getting full tanks and would take longer to fill compared to just twenty dollars’ worth.

As I stood waiting on the cars to get filled up, all of a sudden they were all done, and it was just me and the brown estate at the front pump. There was a silence; it was weird. I took the pump out of the car, locked the cap, and started to make my way back around to the window. I tapped the window and waited for it to come down. The lady looked old yet had a young face, without a line or a wrinkle. She was so vibrant that there was light beaming from her. She was glowing. Her hair was white, a picture of pure perfection.

I asked her for the money for the fuel, and as I reached into the car, she took me by the wrist. I panicked a little and started to pull back, but at the same time, she held on firmer. An overwhelming sense of peace came over me. I can’t explain the connection I was feeling. My whole body felt like it was plugged into the universe. It was amazing.