An Angel Named Beth

God answers a woman's prayer in a most unusual way.

- Posted on Feb 10, 2014

An artist's rendering of an angel in the sky

One day my friend Bob, who has multiple sclerosis, mentioned how Angus had helped him retrieve something he couldn’t reach from his wheelchair. I knew his wife, Rita, and his cat, Patches, but Angus? “Oh, Angus is what I’ve named my guardian angel,” he explained.

I’d always been a skeptic but Bob was a pretty smart guy, so I decided maybe there was something to this guardian angel business after all. Still, even if I did have my own angel, the idea of naming it seemed presumptuous.

About a week later I was putting pans away after baking a batch of cookies when I strained my back trying to close the drawer under the oven. I called my handyman to come fix it, but there was no answer. Then the thought of Bob and Angus popped into my head.

“God, if I have one,” I prayed, “let my guardian angel help me with this drawer.”

I heard a knock at the garage door. I couldn’t imagine who would come to the garage door at the back of the house, or how anyone had gotten by our dog without him barking. I cautiously opened the door to two older gentlemen in overalls.

“We got your call,” one said, “and we’ve come to fix your door.”

“I don’t need my door fixed; I need my drawer fixed,” I said. “Are you sure you’re at the right house? I didn’t call you.”

He showed me the work order. I admitted that everything except the first name was correct. “This says Beth called,” I pointed out. “I’m Joan.” I didn’t know any Beths. “But since you’re here, could you look at my drawer?” I pleaded.

They agreed, and in no time they had it refitted. I tried to pay them, but they refused.

“At least take some cookies,” I insisted, and off they went, each with a handful of chocolate chip cookies, grinning like schoolboys.

Later that evening, I realized God hadn’t just sent me help, He’d actually told me my angel’s name.

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