This is a story I’ve been wanting to write for a long time. I just hope I do it justice. It was an event that happened that reinforced my belief in angels. I have no idea where you stand on this subject, but perhaps after reading this post, you will become more of a believer.
My story begins with my mother. Each year at Christmas, my mother would drape our fake silver pom pom Christmas tree with dozens of twinklie lights and probably close to 500 ornaments. My favorite ornaments were the plastic ones with the little piece of tin in the middle shaped somewhat like a pinwheel. They were in pretty pastel colors, my favorite being pink, and to my child eyes, looked like little merry-go-rounds. The absolute best part of these ornaments was when you hung them near a light, the heat would make the tin pinwheel spin. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but to me, always mesmerizing.
My Mom died in 1997. About five years later we moved my father to Eugene. When cleaning out their home in preparation for the move, my brothers and I, either donated to charity or divided up, what my father didn’t take with him. I wanted the twirly plastic pastel merry-go-rounds. That, and my mom’s garlic press. Those were the two items that would forever remind me of my mother.
So, every Christmas since, the twirly ornaments have graced my tree. I think I have nine of them all together. Until I got the tenth. That’s where the second part of my story begins.
I want to preface this with saying I’ve never seen these ornaments in any store. I’ve never seen them anywhere else, period. The ones I have are close to fifty years old. They are not fancy and if you could buy them today, they would probably cost $2.99 a dozen at Walmart.
The summer before my daughters’ final year in high school, we were gearing up for senior portraits. Some parents spent close to a thousand dollars on these photos. Being newly separated, and having two girls to buy portraits for, money was tight. I chose to go with a photography studio in town that was known for taking the local children’s sports team photos. They were no where near the best, but they were affordable and did a great job on my son’s senior pictures. Nevertheless, I was worried that the photos wouldn’t turn out. I really lost sleep over this. I know it seems silly, but senior pictures are important, especially to girls. Well, you get what you pay for. Some of the girls’ photos were just awful. I was beyond upset. I’m not an “in your face” kinda gal but I mustered up enough courage to ask that they be retaken. To their credit, they obliged.
Now that my fears had come to fruition, I was really worried about the re-takes. What about, if they too, were awful? More lost sleep. Something you should know about me, is when I get agitated about something, I tend to let it consume me. It’s all I can think about. With my divorce coming, tight finances and the botched pictures, I was a basket case. When this happens, I ask for signs of guidance. From the angels, from God, from my mother, who must be in heaven watching over her only daughter. Sometimes I recognize the signs, sometimes I don’t, but more often than not, I see something little that reassures me, my prayers are being heard.
The night before the re-takes were scheduled, I asked for such a sign, something that would let me know everything would be alright.
The next morning, my daughters and I went to the scheduled re-take appointment. It was in a lovely park-like setting. There, alongside the wooded and grassy areas, was a beautiful river. A perfect spot for taking outdoor photos. The area seemed virtually empty, we had it all to ourselves. I didn’t want to linger and hover about, making my girls nervous, so I decided to take a walk and view the river. There was a viewing platform with a wooden rail that jutted out over the water. As I walked up to the platform, I noticed something perched on the top rail. As I’m writing this, I’m still amazed at what I found. There, sitting all by itself, was a beautiful blue pastel twirly Christmas ornament. Exactly like the nine others I had packed away at home. Only this one was sitting in a pink and white needle point box. My sign. Gift wrapped in my favorite color. Waiting for me to find it, to tell me, every thing would be alright.
The girls senior portraits turned out beautiful, but then you could probably guess that.
If you have any stories with divine intervention and would like to share them with me, you can email me at, firstname.lastname@example.org. Or post a comment and share it with my readers.