“I want to believe in angels,” my husband said. “But I would have to see them with my own eyes.”
Angels were all around us. How could Ray not sense their presence, here especially. We were on a long walk in Tanglewood Park, on a bridle path that lead to a pasture. We’d just passed ten horses grazing behind the fence. The sun was out, highlighting the colors in their manes. We were surrounded by beauty.
Until two mangy-looking dogs meandered out of the wooded trail. They were big, off-leash and on their own. Clearly they were wild. Ray and I froze.
When they spotted us, the dogs hunched down. Their low growls terrified me. The growls turned into loud barks. There was no one else around. I closed my eyes and prayed. Lord, we could use some of those angels right about now.
I opened my eyes and looked around in panic. Behind me the horses stopped grazing and lifted their heads. One by one they galloped over to the fence. All 10 lined up, in a neat row, right behind Ray and me, like an elite team of equine bodyguards. The dogs whimpered and cowered, tails tucked between their legs. Then they ran off.
The horses slowly went back to grazing. I turned to Ray to tell him that he finally had proof of angels. “Those horses…” I said.
“I know,” he said. “I saw with my own eyes.”
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