Where Angels Walk
Father John was out making the rounds, visiting the sick in his mountain parish after a heavy rainstorm. He drove from patient to patient in his trusty but ancient Volkswagen Bug. However, on this last leg of today’s appointments, the Bug was anything but reliable. Time and time again, the car sputtered, choked and died, probably due to the wet roads. Father John would get out, pray for patience, and fiddle with the engine, coaxing it back to life for a quarter mile or so, before it gave up again. Finally, the Bug came to a complete stop, and Father knew that no fiddling or cajoling could elicit any more signs of life.
What now? This was a road few people traveled, and he might be stuck out here for hours, perhaps even days. Father wondered, not for the first time, why those who attempted to do God’s work often ran into blockades and difficulties. One would think a little more heavenly help would be offered… Sighing, he took a more specific look around the area to consider how he might finish his visits. The area seemed somewhat familiar, and…yes! Now he realized where he was. And there should be a high bridge over a mountain stream just about a hundred yards ahead. Father walked ahead, and suddenly his heart skipped a beat. The bridge had collapsed due to last night’s rainstorm. Had the Volkswagen been traveling at its usual speed, it would have gone off the side and fallen to the stream below.
Since there was no going forward, Father, heart still pounding at his close call, took a seat in the car to think things out. Once again he put his key in the ignition of the very dead Bug…and this time it leaped to life and purred all the way home. Nor did Father John ever need to take it to the mechanic. “After all,” he explained, “the problem was not with the car. It was my Guardian Angel’s way of keeping me safe.” Heaven never deserts us, even when we think it has.