Every now and then, one runs across a story so remarkable, so magical and mysterious, that it echoes in the heart afterward. Like this one, from my friend Margaret Belitsaris.
Margaret is one of the luminous souls who walk this earth like an angel herself, so pure you wonder if she’s made of flesh and blood. Not long ago, Margaret went to Machu Picchu, in Peru, with her friend Mary. Their two husbands were also on this trip. Mary has been sick with one of those indeterminate disorders that leaves her with pain and sleepless nights, which she handles with an exuberance of energy that would knock out anyone else. On this remarkable night, as Margaret went to bed, she began to pray that her friend would slow down; she needed rest.
The next morning, Mary came down to breakfast and told what had happened to her the night before. For hours she had tossed and turned, ticking off the time. At four in the morning, she opened her eyes and glanced at a painting of a religious figure, a saint or angel. It gazed at her, hands folded at its breast. And to her astonishment, as she watched the hands, they began to move. The index finger of each hand then pointed toward one corner of the room.
There Mary saw a silhouette of a woman kneeling in prayer. She noticed the profile, the hands, the hair. And then the praying figure turned to face her, and she saw it was Margaret. Her clasped hands opened and swept the air downward in a soothing, calming gesture. And Mary fell asleep.
The Holy Mother told the visionary children at Medjugorje in the former Yugoslavia that when you pray for someone, an angel sits on the shoulder of that person. In this story, the angel showed the person praying for Mary.
And Margaret? She listened to the story stunned. It would take a long time to come to terms with it, though her first response was of shame and guilt. Why hadn’t she prayed longer, better, more?
“I have always suspected there are Greater Selves that walks this earth, while we stumble into prayer. It wouldn’t surprise me if these Greater Selves, stripped of all fininte judgment, often walk abroad and visit while we lie sleeping.”
You can hear the entire tale told in Margaret’s soft voice at her monthly “blab,” Listen Well, a spoken-word site that addresses the possibility of the presence of spirit in our daily lives without expounding a specific creed.
