Janel Rodriguez from Brooklyn, New York
We had a long list of things we wanted to do that summer, including going to the playground across the street by ourselves. My sister was 12, my twin and I were 9—old enough not to need the watchful eye of our mother, we decided. “Please, Mami?” we begged. “Can we go?”
Our parents were protective Puerto Ricans, determined to shelter us from big-city dangers as best they could. Mami was hesitant, but she looked at the picture of Jesus that hung on our dining room wall, closed her eyes and made the sign of the cross. “Okay,” she said, “but stick together.”
We rushed out the door. We’d been playing on the jungle gym for only a few minutes when a white and gold dove landed on a branch nearby. I’d never seen a dove like this before. As we moved from one end of the park to the other, the dove followed. Our shouts and laughter were no deterrent. No matter where we went, the dove never left our side.
It was only when we headed back home that it flew away. We couldn’t wait to tell Mami about our heavenly babysitter. I’ll always remember God’s playful answer to her prayer.
Ann Clark from Richmond, Virginia
I was taking care of my parents’ property until we could sell it. Working in the garden one evening, I saw a figure in my peripheral vision. It was nearly dark, but the woman’s white dress seemed aglow. I glanced up to get a better look, but I’d missed her completely. Odd, I thought.
A few days later, I was back in the garden when I heard a noise. I turned to see a little boy, about three years old, standing alone in my parents’ driveway. “Can you help me find my mama?” he asked. I didn’t know where to start. I called the police and distracted him with a story while we waited on the front steps.
Soon the area was abuzz with police going door to door, trying to find out where he lived. Finally they got him home safe and sound. He’d wandered out of the house unnoticed, and I couldn’t help but think he’d wandered onto just the right street. One where a neighborhood watch was led by an angel aglow.
Doreen Tafone from Long Valley, New Jersey
Thwack! I’d never forget the sound of that minivan door slamming against my daughter’s little arm in the parking lot of the mall. Elena was five, and we’d just gotten out of the minivan for a shopping adventure.
High-spirited on any day, Elena was especially excited when I’d helped her out of her car seat and onto the pavement while I dealt with the minivan’s finicky sliding door. I grabbed the handle and pulled with all my might. At the last second, Elena had reached back inside. The door struck her arm hard and bounced back from the force. Elena wailed. I felt sick. What have I done?
As I rushed her into the food court for some ice, Elena stopped crying and was ready for some fun. I held her still while I looked for where to place the ice. There was no bruise, swollen red skin or even a mark, but I iced her arm anyway, expecting the swelling later. “Does it hurt?” I asked while Elena wiggled. She shook her curly head, as happy as ever, acting as if nothing had happened. No trace of the incident ever appeared on her skin.
I’d often joked about how hard Elena’s guardian angel must work to keep her safe. After that day at the mall, I knew in all seriousness that angel was very real.
Kaylin Kaupish Editor
As a preteen city kid, I was a little nervous that first night of our Girl Scout campout in the Appalachian Mountains. I’d never set up a tent before, for one thing. “Looks good and sturdy,” one of the troop leaders said when she inspected our work. “It’s supposed to be windy tonight.”
We had dinner around the campfire and got ready for bed. The leaders headed off to their own tent nearby. As soon as we curled up in our sleeping bags, the wind started to howl. A huge gust hit the tent and a section collapsed. We all squeezed in close where the tent held in place. I didn’t expect to get much sleep.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” someone whispered.
“I’ll be your buddy,” another said. They slipped outside. A few minutes later we heard footsteps. The collapsed tent section lifted up. The poles clicked back into place. It was fixed!
“Thanks for fixing the tent!” I said when the girls returned.
“What are you talking about?” they asked. We figured one of the troop leaders had come to our rescue instead, and we were glad to be able to spread out again. The wind died down, and I surprisingly got a good night’s sleep.
The next morning, none of the troop leaders took credit for shoring up our tent. But I wasn’t nervous anymore. Girl Scouts are always prepared to help out when needed. So are angels.
Eric Stark from Brazil, Indiana
My 11-year-old son, Nathan, sat slumped at the table. “I’m so bored,” he said. “I prayed that something exciting would happen today, but nothing’s happened yet.”
“Well then, I’ve got a job for you,” I said. “I need to mow the grass. I’ll pay you to pick up the sticks in the yard. Earning money is exciting, right?”
Nathan didn’t look enthused, but he pulled on his shoes anyway. We went outside, and I showed him what to do. I was preparing the mower when I heard a scream. I dropped everything and ran to where he was. “What’s wrong?” I asked. Nathan’s eyes were huge.
“Dad, I was picking up the sticks, and one of them wiggled in my hand. I looked down, and it wasn’t a stick. It was a little snake!”
I checked Nathan’s hands, and there were no bites. “A harmless garter snake,” I said. “That must have been scary, though. You okay?”
Nathan broke into a wide grin. “I prayed for something exciting to happen today, and boy, it sure did!”
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