A tractor accident could've been much worse, if not for the angel riding beside her.
- Posted on May 25, 2020
My husband, Max, had fallen asleep beside me. I was still awake. Staring up at the ceiling of our trailer, listening to the night sounds of Texas Hill Country, I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened that afternoon.
I hadn’t told anyone, not even Max. I didn’t think I could. I’d been mowing the lawn, riding a tractor with a mower attached, carefully making my way around the old mesquite trees in low gear. Max was inside the house, working on a shower in the bathroom. A couple of months earlier we had bought the old nineteenth-century house. The place had been abandoned for 50 years—had even been used to store hay—and it needed a lot of work. It was missing windows and doors and lacked a working indoor bathroom and air-conditioning.
When the realtor first showed it to us, Max thought I was crazy for wanting to buy it.
“We’ll practically have to rebuild it,” he said.
“I know it’s a huge job,” I said. “But I’m convinced we can fix it up. We can live in our RV on the property until we’re able to move in.”
Lying in that dark trailer now, I closed my eyes and pictured myself sitting on the tractor, trimming the grass. I could still hear the sound of rocks as the mower rolled over them and sent them flying in all directions. This was one of my favorite jobs. It gave me a chance to really enjoy the property—the sun, the Frio River in the distance, the surrounding hills, the oaks and cypress trees, the birds flitting overhead. Plus it gave me a way to be useful. I couldn’t do the kind of home repair that Max could, but I could keep the property in shape.
What happened out there today? I asked myself for the hundredth time. I recalled steering around some trees, gently moving branches out of the way as I went. I heard a rock fly out from under the mower and looked back to check my progress. I turned carefully in my seat—neck surgery years ago kept me from shifting position too fast. The lawn behind me looked great. The mower had left a straight carpet of trimmed grass. I admired it for a moment—a moment too long, I realized when I turned back around.
The memory made me flinch.
A thick mesquite limb hung right in front of my face. It was far too big to brush aside, too close for me to duck under, much less go around. I threw a hand up and said, “God help me!” What happened next will be with me forever.
Everything went blank and I thought I felt the sensation of being flipped back and forth, but I wasn’t sure. When I came to, the tractor was still moving slowly toward a gate at the edge of the lawn. I was still on it. I turned off the machine, slid down and walked shakily to the house. Impossibly, my neck felt fine. I wasn’t hurt, just stunned.
What had happened?
I knew God had answered my plea. This wouldn’t be easy to explain to Max in a way that would let him feel confident about my getting on the tractor again. I must have fallen asleep thinking about it. I woke with a start and glanced at Max. Whatever had stirred me hadn’t disturbed him. I looked at the clock. Nearly 2 a.m. I started to turn over and froze. Someone was in the trailer with us, sitting or perhaps kneeling by the bed. I looked closely at the shape in the darkness.
Why wasn’t I afraid?
The figure had large shoulders that seemed to be shrouded in something. A pair of folded wings. My mind settled on wings, resting wings, and it all became clear. Here was an angel at my bedside, sent by God to comfort me. I closed my eyes and thanked the Lord. When I looked again, the figure was gone. Sleep was impossible now. I got out of bed and sat down on the couch in the trailer living room.
I had all the answers I needed.
I’d seen the angel who had saved me in the yard. I was sure of it. I hadn’t been mowing the lawn on my own, and I never would be. Max was just as sure when I told him the whole story.