Sweet Dreams of Angels

Sweet Dreams of Angels

A child's lost blanket makes a miraculous reappearance.

An artist's rendering of a child's blanket

Most people who looked at Mine-O-Mine would only see a worn red blanket. But to my four-year-old son, Isaiah, that blanket meant the world. Now it was lost.

“We had it at the soccer game this evening,” I said. I hoped that we hadn’t left the blanket at the field.

“Have you checked the van?” I asked my husband, Lonny.

“I even checked under the seats,” he said. Mine-O-Mine was gone.

“I won’t be able to sleep without him,” Isaiah whispered. Although Lonny had searched the entire van, I felt compelled to check again. Lord, I asked, Mine-O-Mine is so special to Isaiah. Help us find it.

I opened the van door and gasped. Mine-O-Mine was on the floor. In plain view! How could it be? Or with angels by our side, how could it not?

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