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ANGELSONEARTH.

ORG
A GUIDEPOSTS PUBLICATION

ark!

NOV/DEC 2016

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Sta et Ta
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The Blessed Nativity


Christmas Tree
Collection

Sculpted angels
float among the
branches.

Inspired by Thomas Kinkade ... the


Most Collected Artist of our Time.

Handcrafted Hand-painted Illuminates


Your heirloom-quality collection begins with
The Holy Family that can be yours for only
$59.97 payable in three easy installments
of $19.99, the first billed before shipment.
Subsequent shipments, each billed separately
at the same low price, will arrive about
every other month. These include your 3
foot pre-lit frosted Christmas tree, Holy
Crche, fully-sculpted Angel ornaments
and additional Nativity figurines. As
an added value, the snowy white tree
skirt with silver trim is included FREE
with Shipment Three. You may cancel
at any time and your satisfaction is
assured with our best-in-the-business
365-day guarantee.

(shown smaller
than actual
size of 3.5"!)

Shipment Two 
3 foot Pre-lit
Frosted
Christmas Tree

Shipment
Three
Holy Crche
& FREE Tree
Skirt

Not available in any store.


Act now!

Strong demand is expected. Send


no money now. Simply complete
and mail the Reservation
Application today!
Shown smaller than actual size.
Tree measures approx. 3 ft. tall.

2016 Thomas Kinkade


Hawthorne Village 14-01786-001-DIM1

Shipment One The Holy Family

RESERVATION APPLICATION

www.bradfordexchange.com/BlessedNativity

RESPOND PROMPTLY

Signature
Mrs. Mr. Ms.
Name (Please Print Clearly)

Address
9210 Maryland Street Niles, IL 60714-1322

YES! Please reserve the Blessed Nativity

City

Christmas Tree Collection Inspired by Thomas


Kinkade for me as described in this announcement.

State

SEND NO MONEY NOW

Zip

Email

*Plus $9.99 shipping and service. Please allow 4-6 weeks after initial payment for shipment.
Sales subject to product availability and order acceptance.

917944-E12001

down to earth

DEBORAH ORY

DICK SCHNEIDER was a beloved colleague, a


legend at Guideposts, really, a gentle giant of
a man, whose Chicago accent is as crystal clear
in my memory as his unbelievably blue eyes.
Writer and mentor, family man, World War II
veteran, avid sailor and train buff, he died
in January, at age 93, after, I couldnt help but
think, making sure to spend one last
Christmas here on earth.
Everybody knew how much Dick loved
Christmas, but when Guideposts sent him to
the Clinchfield Railroad headquarters, in Kingsport, Tennessee,
to report on the Santa Train that spread gifts and good cheer to the
children of Appalachia, this grown man became like a boy himself.
He wrote about that plum assignment in The Joys of Christmas 2013,
Guideposts annual holiday keepsake.
It was fitting that we were already working on this years edition,
trying to come up with a concept for the cover illustration, when we got
word of his passing. When I was a young editorial assistant, Dick
gave me a copy of Why Christmas Trees Arent Perfect, his favorite of
the 35 books hed written, and it became my favorite too. Years later I
read it to my daughters. We spent hours in the firehouse lot searching
for a loving tree among all the perfect ones, I teased Dick. I
should make you take the girls next year! They insisted on one with
a giant bald spot or gaping hole, some badly broken branches at
the very leastproof that the tree had given shelter to creatures of
the forest. The tree was positioned at home to show off this virtue.
The virtue of one of the most warmhearted people Ive known.
In my heart I dedicate The Joys of Christmas 2016 to Dick
Schneider, who inspired the sheltering pine illustration on its
cover. A most perfect Christmas tree.
COLLEEN HUGHES, EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

Order your copies of The Joys of Christmas 2016 at guideposts.org/joy2016.

ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

contents

Features
6 Prayer for a Farmer
BY JOANN LOWER

12 Jason and the Girl Scout


BY SUE TORNAI

16 Warm Hearts and a Hot


Meal
20 Just Like Me
BY MOLLY PENNINGTON

28 The Fall of Christmas


BY DOUGLAS SCOTT CLARK

34 Holiday Angels
COMPILED BY
TANYA RICHARDSON

38 Angelas Angel
BY BEBE FAAS RICE

42 One Light Shining


BY MEREDITH HINK

46 The 12 Days of Friendship


BY LANA LININGER

50 A Sign in the Sky


BY TOM HEATH

64 Messengers to the Dads


Page 34

BY RICK HAMLIN

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

LEF T: ILLUSTRATION BY STEFANO VITALE; CENTER: ALE X JONES; RIGHT: LORI EANES

BY ROBERTA MESSNER

WHATS NEW ONLINE

The Lead-Up
Remember Marys patience and
courage during that first Advent
season. Follow her journey from
Nazareth to Bethlehem in our
illustrated tribute at angelsonearth
.org/marymotherofgod.

Feeling Stressed?
Time to Get Blessed!
Our Christmas quotes take only a
moment to read, but the joy they
bring will last the whole season. In
the words of luminaries such as
Norman Vincent Peale and Charles
M. Schulz, youll find just what you
need at angelsonearth.org/
christmasquotes.

A Bountiful Table
Page 20

Departments

Looking for something new


for your Thanksgiving spread?
Surprise your family with
this recipe for stuffed squash,
or choose one of the other
dishes from angelsonearth.org/
thanksgivingrecipes.

3 DOWN TO EARTH
10 SOMEONES IN THE KITCHEN
15 FROM YOUR LIPS...
24 HEAVENS MUSIC
26 THE COLLECTOR
32 LOST & FOUND
48 ANGEL SIGHTINGS
56 DESTINATION ANGELS
58 HE MAKES WINDS HIS MESSENGERS
60 ONLY HUMAN?
62 EARNING THEIR WINGS
68 LETTERS & MESSAGES
71 DAILY GUIDEPOSTS PREVIEW 2017

COVER PHOTOGRAPHED BY ALE X ANDRA GRABLEWSKI

ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

PRAYER
for a FARMER
What did I have to be thankful for?
BY JOANN LOWER, NORTHWOOD, IOWA

has special
meaning for farmers. No one
knows better all the work that
goes into bringing food to the table
each year. On his farm two miles
south of Buffalo Center in Iowa my
grandfathers corn grew tall, his
soybean fields emerald green. When
he stood at the head of the table
Thanksgiving Day to say the blessing,
aunts, uncles and cousins all held
hands. We thank you, God, for the
smell of the soft earth; for fat, ripe
ears of corn; and for the hands around
this table that have brought in this
years good harvest.
One year, when I was a young girl,
I squeezed my mothers hand extra
hard. I wasnt feeling thankful at all.
All I felt was scared.
6

HANKSGIVING

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

Just a few days before, my life was


full of blessings. I had a mother who
listened to all my cares. A father who
gave the best hugs in the world.
And now I had something more to look
forward to. Very soon, Mom told
me when I came down for breakfast
that morning, youre going to have
a new baby brother or sister!
Im going to be a big sister! I
cried. Mom took my hand, Dad took
the other and the three of us danced
around the kitchen. Then Daddy
swept me up into one of his champion
hugs. Wed never been so happy!
Dad went out to the fields to pick
the corn. Like all our neighbors, he
was racing to harvest it all before
the winter snows. In the afternoon,
Mom and I were at home when our
ILLUSTRATION BY DAN CRAIG

Aerial shot of JoAnns family farm; up close, her brothers help Dad in the fields.

neighbor pounded on our door:


Theres been an accident! he cried.
Call an ambulance! Dad was hurt.
I was too young to understand the
details. But I saw the horror in
Moms eyes and heard the wail of a
siren. Over the next couple of days
I understood more. The corn picker
Dad pulled behind his Oliver 88
tractor had become plugged with
stalks. He put it into idle and
climbed down to loosen the mess. One
of the snapping rollers grabbed his
right hand and sucked his whole arm
into the machine. Then the tractor
engine killed. Dad was trapped there
in an empty field, unable to move or
reverse the machine.
It was hours before our neighbor
came by to help haul the corn into
town and found Dad unconscious.
The neighbor reversed the rollers
and ran for help. The closest hospital
in Buffalo Center didnt have the
resources to do the surgery, so Dad
was taken 50 miles away to Mason
City. There, I heard, was a young
8

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

doctor named Adams. He was


our only hope. But was that hope
enough to save Dad?
Grandpa looked around the
Thanksgiving table. When he got to
the empty chair between Mom and
me, he teared up. God, bless my
first-born son who, because of this
harvest, is fighting for his life today,
he said. Bring him back to us.
Amen, we said.

RANDPA CARVED the turkey


in silence. Grandma passed
the steamy bowl of riced potatoes
with the little lake of butter on top.
The table was set with Grandmas
best china and silver, with white linen
napkins and a big bouquet of bright
yellow mums picked from her yard.
The scene should have been magical,
but all I could think about was Daddy
far away in a hospital. I tried to
remember how it felt the last time he
put his arms around me for one of his
hugs. Mom had tried to prepare me.
Even if Daddy survived, there was

little chance hed still have both arms.


After Thanksgiving, Mom went
to be with Daddy while I stayed with
relatives. First I went to stay with
my aunt Marlys, a teacher in a oneroom schoolhouse, where she let me
be her assistant. Then Aunt Dorothy,
where I got to be the only girl in a
house full of boys. Next was Aunt
Inez, who read me stories and sang
songs. But lying in bed every night, I
prayed to go home. Please let Daddy
get better, I asked God. Please give
me something to be thankful for
when Thanksgiving comes again.
Eventually I did go home. Daddy
came home toowith two working
arms, thanks to Dr. Adams. Daddy
couldnt open his right hand, but he
got stronger. When harvest came he
was out in the fields working as best
he could. Maybe there were things to
be thankful for after all.

Come November our family


gathered around the table. The air
was filled with the smells of golden
brown turkey, candied sweet potatoes,
homemade breads, jellies and
steamy plum pudding with buttery
lemon sauce drizzled on top.
Grandpa stood up at the head. We
thank you, God, for the smell of the
soft earth; for fat, ripe ears of corn;
and for the hands around this table
that have brought in this years good
harvest. Here Grandpa stopped
and looked around the table at all the
aunts and uncles, the wiggling
cousins. When he got to me, he smiled.
There was Mom, with my new baby
brother in her arms. And between
the two of us, right where he
belonged, was my dad.
In the coming years he built my
mother a new kitchen and filled my
dollhouse with exquisite handmade
furniture. Ive celebrated a lot of
Thanksgivings since then, and on
each one I remember the year Id
thought I had nothing to be thankful
for. Now I see how blessed I was
with a loving family who took care of
me, with neighbors who rushed in to
help my dad when he was hurt, and of
course young Dr. Adams who saved
his life, and his arm. At the time in my
life when I felt abandoned by God,
hed held me tight in a big hug and
surrounded me with angels.

Quotes to inspire gratitude at angelsonearth.org/gratitude

ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

someones in the kitchen

Y HUSBAND JOHNS

memories of growing up in an Italian family in


Brooklyn all centered around food. One of his favorite sweets
was angeletti, a Christmas cookie his aunt Lee made with anise and
luscious lemon icing sprinkled with colored sugar. Its name translates to
little angels. Im not Italian, but I decided to surprise John with my own
recipe for angelettiand he said they tasted just like home.

PAULA DYER, STILLWATER, NEW JERSEY

10

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

Angeletti Cookies
INGREDIENTS

Cookie Dough:
4 cups flour
2 tablespoons baking powder
teaspoon salt
3 teaspoons finely ground anise seed
1 cup unsalted butter
1 cup sugar
6 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
Icing:
5 cups confectioners sugar
1 large lemon ( cup juice)
teaspoon lemon extract
3 tablespoons water
green and red sanding sugar
RECIPE

PHOTOS BY SCOTT JONES

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line 2


baking sheets with parchment paper.
Whisk together flour, baking powder, salt
and anise. In another bowl, cream butter
and sugar with an electric mixer until
light and fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time,

Paula says these cookies make a sweet gift.

mixing well. Add vanilla and mix in. On


low speed, gradually add flour mixture
just until combined. Using a teaspoonsized cookie scoop (#60), scoop 20
dough balls onto cookie sheets. Bake
15 minutes. Cookies will be golden.
Cool on a wire rack. Refill cookie sheets
4 times more. Combine confectioners
sugar, juice from the lemon, lemon
extract and water. (Add more water if
needed.) When cookies are cool,
spread icing over the top of each with
an offset spatula. Immediately sprinkle
with colored sugars. Makes 80 cookies.
The recipes closest to your heart
taste best. Send yours to Angels on
Earth, 110 William Street,
Suite 901, New York, NY 10038.

ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

11

Jason
and the
Girl Where was my son?
Scout
BY SUE TORNAI
CARMICHAEL, CALIFORNIA

WELVE SQUIRMY ANGELS

stood before me, all waiting


for my response to the Cherub
Choirs Christmas dress
rehearsal. That was wonderful, I
said. Keep practicing at home and
Ill see you all on Sunday.
When the last little angel had been
picked up I grabbed my coat and
drove to the day care center to get my
own toddler, Jason. The Cherub
Choirs playlist ran in my head as I
drove, but Id yet to feel the holiday
spirit. It wasnt easy, even with those
adorable children singing their
hearts out, not like back home in
Oklahoma. Joy was everywhere
you looked. But we were far from
Oklahoma this year, in Wiesbaden,
Germany, where my husband was
stationed in the Air Force. We lived
outside of the American community,
where the day care was located, so
Id yet to make friends there. The small
tree in our third-floor apartment
12

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

didnt help. Leading the Cherub


Choir was my last desperate attempt
at putting Christmas first, even
above my loneliness.
I pulled into the parking lot, with
other mothers hurrying from their
cars. At the front desk I asked the
attendant for Jason. She left to get
him and was gone for what seemed
like forever. When she returned,
she looked frazzled. We cannot find
your son, she said.
What are you telling me?
Hes hiding somewhere, she said
quickly. Come in and look around.
Hell come when he hears your voice.
My heart raced as I walked
through the rooms, peeking into
cubbies and opening closets, hoping
for a glimpse of the gray hooded
sweatshirt Id put on him that
morning. Jason, its Mommy, I
called. Time to go home. Dear God,
we need your protective angels.
The attendant called the Air Force
ILLUSTRATION BY JACKIE BESTEMAN

Sue still likes to have Jason by her side.

police. The community was mobilized


and dozens of people searched the
streets. Cars zipped by and I prayed
more urgently. Minutes seemed like
hours. My body trembled with fear. I
wanted to alert Jasons dad, but since
I had our only car he had no way of
getting to me. And what could he do?
If I thought Id felt lonely an hour
ago, so far from home at Christmas,
now I was utterly devastated. Id give
up Christmas spirit forever if I could
have Jason safe in my arms again, I
thought as I poked a bush hoping
Jason was hiding in it.
Then I heard a young girls voice.
Are you looking for a little boy? I
spun around. She was a child, maybe
ten years old. A little boy, about
this high? She held her hand to her
waist. He had on a gray sweatshirt.
Yes, yes, I cried.
My friend, Jennifer, found him
on her way home from Girl Scouts.
He was all by himself so she took him
home to her mom.
Where is that? the policeman
next to me asked.
The girl led us to Jennifers
apartment. The sounds of Rockin
14

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

Around the Christmas Tree echoed


down the stairs. The officer knocked
on the door asking for Jennifer and
her mom invited us in.
A silver Christmas tree dominated
the room. A beautiful angel stood
at the top and presents crowded the
bottom. And there was Jason,
bobbing up and down to the music
with his new Girl Scout friend.
I wanted to get the kids settled
before I got on the phone, said
Jennifers mom. I cant imagine how
worried you must have been. The
police officer left us to the little party.
After a cup of hot chocolate
and a candy cane, Jason and I went
home to where his daddy waited
impatiently. Our little family was
together again, and Jason almost
fell asleep eating his Spaghettios.
I got him in his jammies and
he crawled onto my lap. We rocked
while I sang through the Cherub
Choirs playlist. I thought of Mary
holding her son that first Christmas
long ago. She was young and far
from home like me. She must have
been afraid, but she had angels
watching over her, and so did I. Fear
not, the angel had told Mary.
What a gift to have that comfort,
the assurance that were never
alone. Putting Christmas first, my
cherubic choir and I would sing our
hearts out come Sunday.

from your lips...

VERY YEAR I put the same ice scraper under my


tree. Why? December 2007 I was driving a 10-wheeler truck for
a country ham company. Id dropped off a load in Kentucky and
was ready to return home to Missouri. I awoke early to a world
covered in snoweight inches already and still coming down.
I ran to the truck to be on my way and discovered I didnt have
an ice scraper. The snow might ease up, I thought as I started off.
No such luck. This kind of snow was unusual for Kentucky, so
they werent well-prepared for it. There was just a single plow at
work on the interstate, with a single lane of traffic following
behind. I had to be extra careful in my big, empty truck. Without
the weight of a full load it was hard to get traction.
The windshield wipers whooshed the loose snow away, but the
defroster was no match for the icy buildup underneath. I had to stop
and scrape it off with my fingernails at each underpass. All that
stopping slowed me down and I was already going at a snails pace.
Id never make it to Missouri like this. God, I need help!
At the next underpass I climbed wearily onto the steps of the
cab to clean off half the window, walked around to the other side
to get to the other half, and returned to the drivers side.
Thats when I saw something lying on the ground right where
I would have stepped when I got out: an ice scraper. One made
especially for big trucks like mine, with a handle long enough to
clean the whole windshield and get me home safe. Its still my
favorite Christmas present evera reminder that God gives us
what we need, when we need it.

PETER SOMMERER, CLARKSBURG, MISSOURI


GUIDEPOSTS THANKSGIVING DAY OF PRAYER We thank God for this worldwide network of

prayer. It binds together millions who are praying, uniting them in spirit across the globe.
Have a prayer request? Send it before November 18 to Day of Prayer, P.O. Box 5813, Harlan,
IA 515931313, or submit it to ourprayerthanksgiving.org.

ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

15

warm hearts and


a hot meal
I planned to spend Thanksgiving helping out at a soup kitchen.
Instead I found myself eating in one
BY ROBERTA MESSNER, HUNTINGTON, WEST VIRGINIA

ARLY THAT NOVEMBER back in


1977, I eagerly signed up to
dish out Thanksgiving turkey
and all the trimmings to the folks
who frequented the City Mission in
my West Virginia town. Helping
others gave me such purpose and
peace. It was why Id become a nurse.
Then my mother was diagnosed
with an aggressive form of breast
cancer and was referred to The
Cleveland Clinic. A radical
mastectomy was scheduled for the
week before Thanksgiving. It would
mean a lot if you came with us, my
father said. With you being a nurse
and all, it would make us feel easier.
I gave my apologies at the mission.
The surgery went well.
Afterwards I did everything I could
to keep Moms spirits high and speed
her recovery. I assisted her with arm
exercises and made certain she ate

ILLUSTRATION BY JON STICH

everything on her tray, just like she


made me finish my plate when I was a
girl. Early Thanksgiving morning,
the surgical team made their rounds.
Youve made excellent progress,
Moms doctor told her. Im
discharging you to have your turkey
dinner elsewhere.
We were more than ready to head
home. Before noon, we set out on
a five-hour drive that included back
roads. We didnt pass many real
restaurants. As evening approached
and Mom became weary, we pulled
over at a hole-in-the-wall diner. The
sign in the window promised a
blue plate special. It also said, CLOSED
FOR THANKSGIVING.
Just our luck, Dad said as he
zigged and zagged the streets in the
tiny Ohio town. I was pretty sure
we were lost, but Dad refused to pull
into a gas station for directions. At
ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

17

long last we came across a small


Baptist church that offered a soup
kitchen. TRADITIONAL TURKEY
AND THE TRIMMINGS, the chalk sign
advertised. OPEN TO A LL.
Wonder if theyd let us have a bite
if we told them our story? Mom said.
She really needed to eat. Dad needed
a break from behind the wheel.

E ENTERED a room under the

sanctuary through double


doors with wreaths made of
lacquered mixed nuts. I should
be giving my time in a soup kitchen,
not taking from strangers who need
support from their community. This
didnt seem right at all.
An older man named Lonnie
approached and seated us at a long
table with a huge turkey centerpiece
made of Styrofoam balls and painted
balsa wood, compliments of the
Sunday school kids. Glad to have
you, Lonnie said. Anything you
need is our great joy to bring you.
I explained our situation, and
Moms condition. Lonnie and a buddy
crafted Mom a dandy La-z-Boy-style
recliner from a plastic chair and
a rolling cartwith brakes. Next the
pair filled her a plate with turkey
and side dishes and casseroles. We
do this every year, Lonnie said.
Its a real community event!
I looked around. For the life of me,

18

I couldnt tell who had come to


volunteer and who had come needing
a meal. Lonnie was right about this
simply being a community.
Is there anything I can do to
help? I asked more than once, but
each time I was told to just enjoy
myself. Daddy regaled the winsome
crowd with the story of how we got
lostjust as Id suspected. Did you
stop and ask directions? someone
wanted to know.
No way, Dad said. Everyone
laughed and cheered that our family
had finally found the perfect place
for our Thanksgiving dinner. Were
lucky you got lost, Lonnie said.
I had to admit it felt good to sit
down, relax and be the recipient of
these nice folks good intentions. And
the food was delicious. After a week
of hospital fare I was ravenous.
Were thankful to have shared
this meal with our new West Virginia
friends, the pastor said. Our evening
ended on a prayerful note, for our
safe travels, for Moms continued
recovery. We left amidst hugs and
to-go cartons. I felt like I was saying
good-bye to family. Except Lonnie
wouldnt let us help clean up.
These days at the City Mission,
Im less likely to think in terms of
whos serving and whos being served.
We are a community, where each of
us is serving the others.

Five steps to becoming more grateful at angelsonearth.org/stepstogratitude

My Dear Grandson
May God Always Protect You

Cross Set with a


Genuine Black Sapphire

Protection and Strength


for My Grandson
Sapphire Pendant

Crafted in Gleaming,
Tough Stainless Steel

Finely Engraved on
the Reverse Side

Actual Size

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for My Grandson Sapphire Pendant features a
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which contributes to the contemporary design. The
pendant is engraved on the reverse side with the
sentiment: My Dear Grandson, May God always
protect you and give you strength. A matching 24"
stainless steel chain completes the look.

A remarkable value at $79*, this dog tag pendant is


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now; just mail the Priority Reservation. his limitedtime offer is only available from The Bradford
Exchange. Order today!

PRIORITY RESERVATION

www.bradfordexchange.com/18595
2016 The Bradford Exchange 01-18595-001-DIM1R

SEND NO MONEY NOW

Signature
9345 Milwauk ee Av enue Niles, IL 60714-1393

YES. Please reserve the Protection and Strength for


My Grandson Sapphire Pendant for me as described
in this announcement, in the quantity checked below.
LIMITED TIME OFFER

Mrs. Mr. Ms.


Name (Please Print Clearly)

Address
City

State

Zip

1 Pendant 2 Pendants 3 Pendants 4 Pendants


*Plus a total of $9.98 shipping and service. Please allow 4-6 weeks
for delivery after we receive your initial deposit. All sales subject to
product availability and order acceptance.

E-Mail (Optional)

01-18595-001-E39301

PHOTOS BY ALEX JONES

20

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

Christmas was for


everyone. Decorations
should be too
BY MOLLY PENNINGTON
PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA

hang this
one? three-year-old Dari
asked, talking to herself, a
Christmas ball dangling from her
finger. She took the job of decorating
the tree very seriously. Much more so
than her older brothers, whod grown
bored. Even her dad was engrossed
in the football game on TV. That left
me and Dari.
While she chose a spot for the ball,
I picked up a little figure skater with
pale skin and pink, rosy cheeks, a
present from my grandmother when
I was a little girl. It was definitely
Daris favorite.
Its our very last ornament, I told
HERE SHOULD I

ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

21

Were a biracial family.


Im white; my husband,
Val, is black, like Dari, who
wed adopted at 18
months. Why couldnt
our decorations look more
like my daughter?
When the decorating
was finished I logged onto
a Facebook group Id
joined for white adoptive
parents with children of
a different race. The group
had made me all the more
aware of how important
it was for children to see
positive images of
themselves out in the
world. The group was a big
help in finding dolls,
backpacks, stickers and
Dari got an early start on her holiday greetings this year.
T-shirts. If anyone could
help me find Christmas
her. Where should this one go?
decorations, it was them.
Oooh! Dari pulled her fists up
Im hoping for a black nutcracker,
under her chin the way she did when
I posted. Can anyone help?
she couldnt contain her excitement.
The page was already filled with
Someplace special.
great photos of African-American
Watching Dari scan the tree, I
Santas and elves with brown skin. In
couldnt help but notice the
no time I had suggestions for where
differences between her and the ice
to find my nutcracker. I made a few
skater. Dari was blackunlike
calls and found a storebut the
almost all the angels, elves, Santas
nutcracker was out of stock. Finally I
and cherubs on our tree. I looked
found what I was looking for. And
at our Nativity, at the nutcrackers
she was a ballerina, even more perfect.
on our mantel. All white.
Dari was crazy about ballet. We
22

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

placed our nutcracker ballerina


on the mantel next to our traditional
nutcracker soldier.
That night I went back to
Facebook to thank everyone for their
help. Once more I got distracted
scrolling through the thread of
Christmas decorations: Santas for
the yard, tree-toppers, Christmas
cards and
Dari?
I could have sworn it was my
daughters face looking out from the
cover of a box of Christmas cards.
The little girls chin rested on her
small fists, just like Daris often did.
They had the same smile. The same
hair. The same eyes. The same face.
But this Dari had angel wings poking
out from her shoulders.
Found these on a clearance shelf
at the grocery store, the post said.
I bought them out!

Well, none for me in that case.


Nevermind, Id already sent my cards
anyway. So I just said how much I
liked these. They look just like my
daughter, I posted. I loved knowing
these cards would be sent out by
someone at Christmastime.
The woman wrote back right away,
asking for my mailing address. Soon
after a package arrived in the mail
with two boxes of cards inside. Dari
stared at it, her eyes wide. Is that
me? she asked.
Its you, all right.
Dari pulled her fists up under her
chin, making her look even more like
the angel in the picture. But I dont
have wings, she said.
Yes you do, I said. We just cant
see them.
I cannot wait to send out my
beautiful Dari cards this yearand
neither can she.

Afterglow
It wasnt easy waiting all those months to mail Daris
Christmas cards. Mollys mom was the first to get a
glimpse of what was coming. I just texted her a
picture of the card, Molly says, with no explanation.
Mom texted back, Wow, that looks just like Dari!
Another friend assumed Dari had posed for the photo
herselfuntil she turned the card over and saw the
copyright. The illustration was done two years before Dari was born! Perhaps
it was Mollys aunt who summed up the card best when she said, Dari
must have been created from angels in heaven. We wholeheartedly agree.

ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

23

heavens music

NE AFTERNOON I VOLUNTEERED to take a relative to the


hospital, and hoped to wait in the car after dropping her off at the
holiday-decorated entrancebut it was too cold. I shut the carols
off on the radio and wiped the tears from my face before getting
out. What was Christmas music without a magical flute? My adult
daughter, Laurie, had died from a massive stroke just before
Thanksgiving, and I couldnt face
another holiday without her smile,
or her music. Every Christmas
Laurie arrived with her flute. With
her brother on bass and his wife
on piano, the trio serenaded us. Id
have no flute in my Christmas
music this year.
At the hospital entrance, a
bearded man held the door open
for me. How do you keep warm
here in the winter? he asked. Im
from Florida so Im not used to
this. We got to talking, and I told
him about my daughter.
He walked me to the empty
waiting room, and I settled myself
into one of the chairs. I think
you need a song today, he said,
looking at me tenderly. Then
he reached into his long coat and pulled out a wooden flute, just
like the one Laurie used to own. As he played a sweet tune,
tears rolled down my cheeks. Once he finished I reached into my
purse to get a tissue. When I looked up again the man was gone.
But Laurie and her music were present to me once more.

DELORES LEISNER, RACINE, WISCONSIN

24

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

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ERE IN ALABAMA , a snowstorm isnt an everyday


event, even in winter. Thats why, whenever one hit our town, my
brother Jeff and I raced out back. Its snowman time! hed say,
grabbing my hand. But we didnt build a regular ol snowmanwe
grabbed items from around the house to challenge our creative
energy. One snowman wore Jeffs camouflage hat and gloves,
another sported a toy car racetrack for a belt. Unique is always
better, Jeff said. No one had
snowmen like ours.
Maybe thats why when I got a
place of my own and went shopping
for decorations, I was drawn to a
table of damaged, reduced items. One
little figurine was a baby snowman
with a red knit hat and scarf, holding
up a broken Christmas tree. It
dangled limply from the snowmans
stick-like hands. At first glance
he looked hopeless.
Jeff would somehow make this
work, I thought. At 25 cents the
store was practically giving him away.
I bought him and super-glued his
tree. Good as new.
Over the years, Ive added more misfit snowmen to my
Christmas collection, 50 pieces and counting. Theres a snowman
salt shaker who somehow lost his pepper pal; a tall, slim
snowman whose body is chipped; and a round snowman whose
white hat has seen better days.
Jeff gets a kick out of them! Unique is always better, when it
comes to collections, or one-of-a-kind brothers.

MICHELLE ARBOGAST, ADAMSVILLE, ALABAMA

26

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

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The Fall
of

Christmas
If we listened closely, Mama said, we could hear it arrive
BY DOUGLAS SCOTT CLARK, STURGIS, MICHIGAN

high on the
windowsill that Christmas Eve.
My brother Buddy Earl and I
were warm inside a cozy house filled
with the smell of Mamas spicy apple
cake and the sounds of our brothers
and sisters talking and laughing. You
might have thought everything was
perfect. But neither of us could enjoy it.
Do you think Daddy will be all
right out in the snow? Buddy asked.
Hes walked that road a thousand
times, I said. Hell be safe. My
words sounded sure, but my voice held
the same note of apprehension Id
heard in Buddys.
Buddy joined me at the window
and pulled back the curtain to look
outside. Somewhere out in the night,
my father was walking home from
NOW WAS PILED

28

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

the lumber camp where he worked.


Walking outside in the cold with the
snow coming down hard and not
the warmest clothes in the world.
He is mighty late, said Buddy
Earl, peering into the darkness
beyond the porch light.
Maybe he worked overtime, I
said. Or stopped at the store. Hell
be home anytime now.
You two boys come away from the
window, Mama called. Help
smarten up the Christmas tree.
Buddy and I reluctantly joined the
rest of the family by the little cedar
tree in the corner. We couldnt afford
ornaments or garland from a store,
but that didnt make the tree any
less beautiful. We had sprigs of
holly berries and homemade paper
ILLUSTRATION BY PHIL, i2iART.COM

decorations. Stars,
How the animals
dolls, quarter moons
talked on the first
and angels cut from
Christmas, said
paper hung from every
Buddy.
branch of the little tree.
We all made a guess,
My sister Imogene
but nobody got it right.
handed me popcorn to
Mama put a finger
hang. Dont let me
to her lips to signal
catch you eating our
silence and we all
garland, she said. All
moved closer on the
Doug learned a lot growing up
that thread might give
floor. I got the feeling
in the Great Smoky Mountains.
you a stomachache.
Mama was going to
Dont worry, I
stretch out this story
replied, taking the long string. If I
to distract herself from her own
eat it you wont catch me.
worries about Dads absence.
As Buddy and I wrapped the
This story is about the fall of
popcorn around the tree I looked
Christmas and how a person can go
around the room. Every doorway
about hearing it, she said.
was adorned with holly boughs and
We looked at one another and
cedar sprays, and the fireplace was
shrugged our shoulders. Did the
too. A big twig of mistletoe hung
arrival of Christmas really have
over the front door. Only one thing
a sound? Did Christmas fall like the
was missing: Daddy.
snow outside?
Mama entered the room with a
How can we hear Christmas?
plate stacked high with sugar-dusted asked Buddy Earl.
cookies. My oldest sister followed
Well, said Mama, the old folks
close behind with cups of hot apple
say if folks breathe quietly and keep
cider. This was the time when Mama
their ears properly attuned on
told stories of Christmas past, when
Christmas Eve, they might be lucky
gifts were brown medicine-smelling
enough to hear Christmas arrive.
horehound candy and licorice sticks.
But what does it sound like? I
I have a new tale this year, Mama
asked, glancing around the room
said, settling into her chair and
looking for things that made noise.
taking a long sip of cider. What do
Does it fall like a loud thud?
you think its about?
Heavens no! Mama said.
The birth of Jesus, I said.
Christmas is a gracious and blessed
30

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

season. It could never sound like a


loud thud. What a mind you have.
So what do people say it sounds
like? Buddy asked. Jingle bells?
Those fortunate enough to hear
it could never describe it, said
Mama. Some say it was like a babys
sigh during a restful sleep. Others
say it was like a rustle of leaves stirred
by the wind. My parents recalled it
as the sound of a tree limb cracking
under the weight of snow.
How about you, Mama? asked
Imogene. Have you ever heard the
fall of Christmas?
Mama closed her eyes and leaned
back in her rocking chair as she
remembered. Only once, when I was
a young girl. To me it sounded like a
rush of angels wings.
Were you scared? I said.
No, child, Mama said. There

wasnt anything to harm me.


For a long moment no one spoke.
Our house was more quiet than Id
ever heard it as each of us searched
our thoughts and tried to imagine
what Christmass arrival would sound
like. I held my breath, kept my ears
open. And then I heard it.
THUD!
Mamas eyes opened wide. All
heads snapped to the front door and
the heavy thuds coming from the
porch. The familiar thump of Daddy
stomping the snow off his boots
before coming into the house.
Daddys home! we all shouted,
running to the door.
After hugs, we children all stepped
aside to let Mama greet Daddy
herself. Merry Christmas, dear,
she said tenderly, and gave me a
happy wink.

Afterglow
See something surprising in Douglas Scott Clarks
byline? He and his wife, Arbutis, have left Tennessee
after 70-plus years. The only reason we moved
was to be near our grandchildren, William, Sarah,
and Carolyn, Doug says. Just look at them. We
think theyre worth the move! With his familys help
Dougs settling in to his new home, but hell always
have the mountains in his heart. The grandchildren are teaching me all
about iPads and smartphones. But I still dream of Tennessee. I hear there
are mountains here in Michiganthe Porcupine Mountains near the shores
of Lake Superior. Im going to get a map and go looking.

Celebrate simple Christmas pleasures at angelsonearth.org/simplechristmaspleasures

31

lost & found

OW COULD I HAVE LOST my cell phone? I asked,


rifling through my purse. I hardly ever used it, but kept it on hand
in case of emergency when I traveled.
Just last week I had gone out of town to lead a workshop
but never even turned on my phone. I checked my gym bag,
the kitchen table, under couch cushions...
Jack, I called to my husband, have you seen
my cell phone? I cant find it anywhere.
Nope, he answered from another
room. Sure havent.
Well, I can rule out theft, I
thought, laughing to myself. It was
a flip phone, a dinosaur. Nobody
wanted one of those nowadays.
Jack came in to help me look
aroundbut no luck. Probably time
for you to break down and buy a new
phone, he said.
I didnt want to buy a new phone!
Its got to be somewhere in the house.
For a week we looked for my dinosaur
and found nothing. I give up, I said to
Jack one night as I climbed into bed. Only
heaven knows where that thing is. And
heaven isnt telling me, I thought, drifting off.
I awoke the next morning with the strangest
vision of my briefcase. It was closed, and I could see
through it: My cell phone was inside!
I know where my phone is! I told Jack. I raced from the
bedroom to my home office. There, I opened my briefcase and
found my dinosaur. Thank heavens.

JEANETTE MARTINO LAND, NORTH PALM BEACH, FLORIDA

32

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

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holiday
angels

Its their busiest


time of year

E.T. Phone Home for Christmas


d finally landed a job, and right in time for Christmas. When
eight-year-old Kristopher came home from school that Friday
afternoon, I told him the good news. We still wont be able
to buy presents, though, I finished.
Thats okay, Mom. Kristopher was a good sport, but I
wished I could do something for him. We fashioned our
own decorations for our tree, a little ficus. It didnt look like the
trees you saw in the moviesand Kristopher knew his
moviesbut it would have to do.
On the drive into my new job Monday morning, I saw a man
selling big, plush E.T.s by the side of the road. Kristopher loves
that movie! I pulled over, bargained down for a good price, stuffed
E.T. in the passenger seat, and drove off asking the Lord to help
me stretch my last few dollars till payday at weeks end.
I wasnt letting E.T. out of my sight and carried him into the
office. Maybe you can find a bike to go along with it, just like in
the movie, one of my coworkers said.
On my way home I passed a garage sale with an old bike out
front. The banana seat and handlebars made it look straight off
the E.T. movie set. How could I just drive by? Ill take five

ILLUSTRATION BY STEFANO VITALE

ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

35

dollars for it, the owner said. He agreed to hold it until payday!
Bring it in for a makeover, my coworkers insisted. During
our breaks, we banged out the dents, oiled the bike chain and
tightened the brakes. And to top it off? An old milk crate, tied to
the frame with a bungee cordE.T.s perch for the big getaway.
On Christmas morning, Kristopher woke to a Hollywood
movie scene, but it was angels, not aliens, who made it happen.
DIWON CHERRY, BIG RAPIDS, MICHIGAN

Thanksgiving Mash-up
here could they be?
My brother, Jess, and my father-in-law had gone to pick
up our Thanksgiving dinner. The store was only a few blocks
away and wed preordered. Did they get lost? I anxiously
asked my husband, Mike. They barely know each other. Maybe
they argued and parted ways.
This was my first time hosting Thanksgiving. The first time our
two families had celebrated together. Its bad enough I cant cook a
turkey myself, I said to Mike. Now weve lost Jess and your dad.
My mother-in-law didnt seem worried, but I was sure thered
been a disaster. Maybe Mike Senior and Jess werent meant to
make peace like the pilgrims and Native Americans managed to
that first Thanksgiving.
Finally we heard someone outside the apartment door. Mike
Senior and Jess walked in with their arms full, laughing. Where
were you? I demanded.
I wanted to stop at a gourmet cheese shop, Mike Senior said.
And we lost track of time, Jess jumped in. We almost forgot
to pick up the food!
That evening the two of them cheered and moaned side by side
in front of the football game. By the end of the trip Jess was
referring to Mike Senior as my father-in-law and Mike Senior
called Jess a real pal.
Thanksgiving was the holiday of blending tribes, after all.

TANYA RICHARDSON, ASSOCIATE EDITOR

36

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

Featuring: Baby Blizzard!


eorgia weather was nothing like western New York. My
four-year-old nephew, Chris, had never seen real snow. When
my brother brought him for a holiday visit, Id planned a lot
for us to do, hopefully things he would remember when he got older.
As soon as Chris arrived he scooped up a handful of snow.
This is my snowball, he said. His name is Baby Blizzard.
Fantastic! I said, admiring his work.
The next morning everyone got ready for our outing. Can Baby
Blizzard come? Chris asked, grabbing the still-solid ball from
outside. I didnt want my plans upstaged by a chunk of snow, but I
didnt want to say no either. Chris carried his prize into the shops,
and just as if it were a real baby he held it up to enjoy a Christmas
lights display. We had a minor crisis when we noticed some
puddling, but at home we popped Baby in the freezer.
Chris is grown now. He remembers that snowballand that
triplike it was yesterday. Far from upstaging me, Baby Blizzard
made the trip unforgettable. Christmas memorieslike certain
persistent snowballsnever melt.

CAROL FLEISCHMAN, NIAGARA FALLS, NEW YORK

Blue Matchy-Matchy
ewelry makers like my niece Holly and I work like mad in
the weeks leading up to Christmas. I have to get this in the
mail today, I thought, stringing some blue beads on a piece
of wire for my sister Sharon. I finished the earrings and bracelet,
but the necklace would just have to wait. I knew how much
she liked everything to match, but I was out of time.
At Hollys house, the two of us compared notes about our craft.
I picked up a necklace sitting on her counter, a perfect
compliment to the earrings and bracelet I had fashioned. Thats
for Aunt Sharon, Holly said. Do you think shell like it?
Clearly Christmas angels like matching jewelry too.

ROSEMARY KUHN, NAPERVILLE, ILLINOIS

ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

37

AA

Everyone in my family
knew the story, and we all told it exactly
the same way

ngelas

ngel

BY BEBE FAAS RICE, POTOMAC FALLS, VIRGINIA


LL MY 84 YEARS , Ive believed
in angels. From the time I
could be read to, my mother
shared the Bible stories of when
they appeared. And then there was
another story, a special family story,
that my mother told me many times.
It wasnt nearly as old as those Bible
stories, but we knew it was every bit
as true. Because it was a story about
my own grandmother, back in 1898.
Chicago, at the end of the
nineteenth century, was not an easy
place for a young couple without
much money. My grandpa had a job
at an iron foundry. Long hours,
hard work, poor pay. At home my
grandmother cared for their three

38

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

young children: two sons, Henry and


Stanley, and little Angela.
Grandpa dreamed of moving his
family to Canada, where a man
who was willing to homestead the flat,
grassy prairie would get 160 acres
to call his own. Every eighteen-yearold male child can increase the
size of the homestead, he read to
Grandma from the paper one
morning. Henry and Stanley arent
old enough now, but one day
They began saving money and
dreaming of the move north. Then
little Angela took sick. Only a toddler,
Angela was the apple of everyones
eye, with her golden curls and rosy red
cheeks. Now those cheeks were
ILLUSTRATION BY ANDREA COBB

Bebes grandparents with Stanley, Henry


and little Angela in Chicago, circa 1898

flushed with fever, and her curls


spread out on a pillow as she fought
for her life.
What illness did Angela have?
Nobody knew. At that time children
often came down with fevers and
chills. Doctors didnt have a name for
their ailments. Nor did they have
a cure. These were the days before
antibiotics. All a mother could do
was sit by her childs bed and pray.
Rock her, soothe her, make her
comfortable. Home remedies were
the only hope anyone could offer.
Teas made of chamomile or ginger
or blackberry. Mustard baths and
brandy rubs. Grandma must have tried
them all, knowing and fearing that
40

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

they might not be enough. Parents


back then couldnt expect a child to
get better. Too many didnt.
One night Grandma sat in a
rocking chair with Angela in her lap.
The little girl was wrapped in
blankets, her golden head resting
against Grandmas shoulder as
they rocked back and forth. Hours
passed like that, Grandmas prayers
keeping a comforting rhythm with
the old rocking chair. It was long past
midnight. Still she held Angela
close. The room was quiet. Just the
two of them resting in the flickering
light of a candle.
In the early hours of the morning,
Grandma glanced down toward the
right arm of the rocking chair. She
blinked her eyes. Was she dreaming?
No, the weight of Angelas little body
asleep in her arms, the creak of the
rocking chair on the wooden floor
all these details were as real as ever.
What she was seeing was true.
Beside the rocking chair was a girl,
a child no bigger than Angela herself.
There was a peace about her that
Grandma had never experienced.
Where had this lovely creature come
from? Grandma wondered. It was
as if she had been summoned by
Grandmas rocking prayers. The room
seemed filled with them.
The child leaned against the rocker,
half-kneeling, half-standing. She

didnt speak or look back at


Grandma. She just stood there.
Waiting, Grandma thought.
The child was waiting. Thats when
Grandma realized this wasnt a
child at all. She was an angel.
Grandma didnt speak. The three
of them simply waited there together
in the quiet of the room: Grandma,
Angela and the angel.
Angela died a few hours later. The
loss of a child, Grandma would later
say, is the one grief that can never
be fully understood. Sadly, Angela
was not the last child she would lose.
Of her 10 children, Grandma would
lose three more. How did she
survive that? I asked my mother
once I was old enough to imagine
Grandmas pain.
Angelas angel never left her

side, my mother explained. Your


grandmother knew that Angela and
her siblings were welcomed into a
kingdom of light and love, of
goodness and beauty, where children
were all happy and healthy. Its what
every mother wants above all else.
Grandma and Grandpa did their best
to provide all their children with
such happiness, eventually fulfilling
their dream of settling in Canada.
Its been more than a hundred
years since Grandma saw her angel.
Shes long since joined Angela in
heaven. As has my mother, Marie, who
was Grandmas seventh child. One
day Ill see them all too. And when my
time comes Ill look out for an angel
who looks like a little girl. Ill know
shes come to lead me to the kingdom.
Come to take me home.

Afterglow
Although Bebe Faas Rices grandmother
didnt have much as a young bride, she
loved beautiful things. My grandparents
originally lived in a sod house, Bebe
says, but my grandmother still had several
pieces of Limoges china. The china went
with the family to Canada. She also
dismantled her crystal chandelier and hung
the pendants on her Christmas tree. Bebe
and her husband, Duff, hang one of those pendants on their own tree. Duff
retired from the Marines as a major general and has earned many decorations
himself. He wore them proudly while escorting Bebe to a recent military ball.

ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

41

One Light Shining


How a candle-making hobby inspired a
unique Advent tradition
BY MEREDITH HINK, HOLMEN, WISCONSIN

42

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

ILLUSTRATION BY LEONID GORE

on the hill.
I could almost hear my
grandfather, Doc, speaking the
words as I sorted through the boxes
of keepsakes in his basement.
Its how he always signed off on his
annual Christmas letter. Every
holiday season, he lit up the star that
hung on an old water tower that
stood on a hill by his house. The star
was a guiding light not only for
me in my life, but for the travelers
passing on their way along the
Mississippi River. But the star
wouldnt be shining this yearand
no Christmas letter would be sent.
Doc had passed away in July. Now,
in August, my family was cleaning
up the house so it could be sold.
Docs World War II memorabilia,
I said to myself as I opened another
box. Hed served in the Aleutian
Islands. Id already found dozens of
souvenirs from his trips around the
world. And then I found the candles.
Doc had invested hard work,
time and dedication to many hobbies
throughout his life. At one point,
he got passionate about candlemaking. He displayed them all over
the house. Doc had even made
the unity candle for my wedding.
Apparently hed made too many
for one person to burn. I carried an
armload of his wax creations
upstairs to show the rest of the family.

HE STAR IS SHINING

What should we do with all


of these? I asked, setting out tall
tapers, votive candles, fat pillar
candles, you name it.
Ill take one, my cousin said,
choosing a bright red taper.
A few more were claimed quickly.
But the candles kept accumulating.
The more we cleaned the house, the
more candles turned up. What I
thought would be a few keepsakes
turned into a stockpileand I
became the rightful owner.
At least the house will be well lit if
theres a power outage, my husband,
John, joked on our way home.
Well, I wasnt going to throw them
out. I stared out the car window.
What would Doc have wanted? My
grandfathers light always shined
most brightly during Advent Lord,
how can I use these candles to
honor you and the memory of Doc?
Then it hit me that if Advent
meant so much to Doc, I could use his
candles for an Advent challenge!
I have an idea, I told John.
I called it One Light Shining, just
like Docs star on the hill.
My plan slowly developed over the
next couple of months. One Sunday at
the beginning of Advent, I piled
boxes of candles into my car and took
them to church. I arranged the
collection on a table in the fellowship
hall for the parishioners to see as
ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

43

they had their


Sunday morning
coffee. Now I had to
find the right words
to explain my plan.
When the pastor
asked us, Any
announcements before we conclude
the service? I almost stayed silent.
But I couldnt let Doc down. I knew
people were wondering about my
table of candles.
I took a deep breath and walked
up to the front of the church. Doc,
my grandfather, was a man of great
faith, I said. As soon as I started
talking about him, my idea seemed to
explain itself. Each person is
welcome to take a candle. If you take
one, all I ask is that you perform
an act of service for someone else, and
be a light for them this Advent season.
Take a picture with the candle to
show us what you did. We can feature
the photographs in our church
newsletter.
Will people want to take on this
challenge this time of year? I
wondered as I returned to my seat.
Or would my candle table stay
untouched? I waited patiently while
people casually stopped by the
table to pick up a candle. My candle
collection had dwindled to half!
The pictures came pouring in. One
parishioner lit her candle as she
44

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

By the light of one of Docs


candles, Meredith repairs
her grandmothers dollhouse for a lucky little girl.

made dessert for our


community dinner
and wrapped presents
for the giving tree. Another burned
her candle next to a sewing machine
while she stitched blankets for those
in need. A mother/daughter team
held a tiny candle when they rang
bells for the Salvation Army. Another
picture showed grandparents
babysitting while the parents went
Santa shopping.
Doc would be so happy his
candles were used in this way, I told
John one night as I scrolled through
pictures on our church website.
The Wednesday before Christmas,
we had a special quiet Christmas
service. Our pastor invited everyone
to bring back their candles and place
them on a table in front of the altar.
The image of them twinkling
reminded me of Docs light shining on
the hill. One light inspired so many.
The next time John and I drove
past Docs house, a surprise awaited
us as we rounded the bend. Docs
star was brightly shining as if to greet
us. The house was long empty by
thenwho could have lit it? A
Christmas angel, perhaps, sharing
Gods guiding light.

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12
days of friendship
the

They came bearing gifts (in secret)


BY LANA LININGER, PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA

HE FIRST ONE arrived


exactly 12 days before
Christmas. A plain
white paper bag right
outside my front door.
The mystery package
was waiting for me when
I came home from my
friends holiday tea party. Id
had to excuse myself early. Everything from the decorations to the
happy ladies at my table reminded
me of my husband,
Tom, whod passed
away that
summer. Id
hoped getting
out of the house
would take my
mind off him.
Instead I was

46

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

overcome with memories


of our 54-year marriage.
Tom had been my
childhood sweetheart, the
boy next door. Wed built
such a happy life together.
And he loved Christmas
more than anything. We
anticipated its arrival each year
like two kids.
Id left the party in tears. But not
before I asked another widow if the
holidays would ever get any easier.
Not really, she said. Youll just
learn to celebrate differently.
Celebrate differently? I thought. She
means celebrate alone.
I was still thinking about that
wordalonewhen I got back
home. Then I saw the bag sitting
there, the leaves of a white poinsettia
ILLUSTRATIONS BY TRINA DALZIEL

plant sticking out. I carried it into


the house and read the typed note.
On the first day of Christmas, your
true friends give to you: A poinsettia
just for you! No signature.
I set the flowers on my kitchen
table, the only Christmas touch
around. Someone was mighty
thoughtful.
The next morning I opened my
front door to get the newspaper.
There, on the bench by the
door, was another plastic
bag. Another poinsettia?
I thought. But no, this
bag contained two bags
of candyturtle clusters
to be exactwith a note:
On the second day of
Christmas, your true friends
give to you: Two turtle clusters, and
a poinsettia just for you!
Now I had to laugh. Could my
secret gift-giver be one of my sons,
orchestrating this from afar? Or
my neighbors? I looked up and down
the block Id lived on for more than
50 years. I called everyone I could
think of. But nobody fessed up.
I woke the next morning feeling
like a kid on Christmas Day. I ran to
the door, flung it open and found
another white bag, another note.
Three French vanilla yogurts in lieu
of three French hens. I had to hand

it to my true
friends. They
were clever.
The gifts only
got more creative.
Four calling birds in the form of toy
cardinals that were motion activated
to chirp, chirp, chirp. Seven
marshmallow Peeps-a-praying.
Eight mini Milky Ways for snacking.
Nine Lady Grey tea bags
adorned with dancing feet.
For the first time since
Tom died, I actually looked
forward to discovering
what wonders the day held.
Not just what gift I would
get, but what might happen
afterward. A nice chat with a
neighbor. Lunch with a friend.
One of my sons calling. They were all
little bursts of joy.
To finish things off, my true friends
sent to me 11 piping hot chocolate
packs and 12 gingerbread cookies. To
this day I dont know
who these lovely
friends were. But
in 12 days they
gave the
assurance that
I will never
be aloneon
Christmas or any
other day.
ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

47

angel sightings

HICAGOS SMITH MUSEUM of Stained Glass Windows exhibition on Navy


Pier was a must-see for my husband and me when we were in the
Windy City for our anniversary. I hadnt expected all of the magnificent
angels! If I had to pick a favorite, it would be this depiction of the Virgin
Mary and Jesus bracketed by two adoring angels. I snapped the picture and
immediately realized I had found my next Christmas card.

JENNIFER CLARK VIHEL, BAYSIDE, CALIFORNIA

48

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

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IN THE
He wanted to be a good, sober father,
but that dream seemed out of reach
BY TOM HEATH, OLIVE BRANCH, MISSISSIPPI
Y WIFE S EYES

were hard
as stone. Tom, youre drunk.
I threw up my hands.
Honey, I swear. Im not.
Terri shook her head in disgust.
I can smell it. I can see it in your face.
You were drinking again!
Her eyes turned pleading. Tom,
when are you going to stop? Really
stop. For good.
I leaned against the kitchen
counter, where dinner was getting
cold. Words died on my lips. Id
been promising Terri Id quit for as
long as wed known each other. Terri
hung her head and left the room.
Well, I thought, might as well have
another beer.
I started drinking in high school.

ILLUSTRATION BY ALICE WELLINGER

Partying with my older brothers and


their friends. Dad worked overseas
and Mom worked the late shift as a
nurse. Nightly bouts of drinking
gradually became needing a few beers
to get going in the morning.
By the time I was in college, I was
downing 30 beers a day. And that
is not counting what I drank when I
really partied.
Terri and I met in college. She was
pretty and smart and we thought
alike about so many thingspolitics,
humor, religion. Well, Terri took
her faith seriously, whereas I kept
God just far enough away to give
me room to drink.
I sort of kept Terri at arms length
too, so I could hide the true extent of
ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

51

my drinking. But I assured her


that as soon as I graduated, Id stop
partying and settle down. She
believed me, even after I got a DUI.
What she didnt know was that
every morning I woke up with a
craving for alcohol so powerful, it was
all I could think about until I popped
that first beer. Somehow I stayed
totally sober for our wedding. That
was a wonderful day, full of joy. Id
gotten a job helping to manage a hog
farm in Missouri. The plan was for
me to move up there and scout out a
place for us to live. Then wed start
our household together.
Meantime, I had several months
to drink as much as I wanted. My
work kept me outside most of the day,
supervising operations. Plenty of
opportunities to sneak a drink.
I tried to cut back when Terri and
I set up house. Tried not to drink
around her, or drank earlier in the
day so Id be more or less sober when
I got home. Then, one night, I got
absolutely plastered at a work party.
Falling-down drunk. Terri was
horrified. My boss was horrified.
Guess it must be this cold
medicine Ive been taking! I slurred.
Everyone just stared. Back home,
Terri dragged me into bed and told
me my boss had said to her that
if I didnt go into rehab, hed fire me.
I did 28 days. It was torture. I
52

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

came out craving alcohol more than


when Id gone in. I didnt drink for
about a year after that but I wasnt
truly sober. I thought about alcohol
all the time. Yearned for it.
At last, on a day off, I gave in. I
kept myself from bingeing, and
I managed to lay off for periods of
time, so I could convince myself
I wasnt a true alcoholic. I still had
a job. I wasnt shirking my
responsibilities. Terri hadnt left me.
Shed just left the kitchen, another
dinner gone to waste. Id lay off the
beer for a few days, maybe a week.
Just till Terri calmed down.
During one such hiatus, Terri
announced she was pregnant. I
resisted celebrating with a beer. Im
not going to be a drunk dad, I told
myself. Miraculously, I stayed sober
through the pregnancy.
It was a straightforward delivery,
though nine weeks premature. I
was overjoyed to see my baby boy in
his first wailing moments of life.
We named him Thomas Alexander
Alex, for short. I listened to his
crygood and strong to my ears
and stared into his tiny face,
trying to envision myself as a sober,
responsible father. Even then, the
idea seemed more wish than reality.
Actual reality intruded the very
next moment. I turned to see how
Terri was doing and noticed one of the

Toms storm-cloud angel holds the bright


baby cloud in safe, strong hands.

doctors inserting a breathing tube


into Alexs throat. The next moment
our son was whisked away. The
doctor suspects he has a hernia in his
diaphragm, a nurse explained. He
may need surgery.
No sobering-up experience had
ever come remotely close to the
punch I felt in my gut. I gripped
Terris hand. All my attention
focused on Alex. For the first time in
decades, not a single part of my mind
thought about alcohol. I heard myself
prayingactually praying, not
mouthing words I didnt really mean.
The doctors recommended that
Alex be immediately transported to
a larger hospitala good three hours
away in Jackson, Mississippi. A
friends parents put us up at their
house for what would probably be
a weeks-long stay.

On his sixth day of life, Alex


underwent surgery. The operation
seemed to go fine. But a few days
later, Alexs heart rate spiked to more
than twice the normal level for an
infant. NICU visiting hours ended
and Alexs life was in the balance.
Terri and I walked out to the hospital
parking lot. Was Alexs condition a
consequence of God punishing me for
drinking? For all my years of lies
and broken promises?
I raised my face to the sky. Dont
take it out on Alex! Hes just an
innocent boy!
I glanced over my shoulder. As
if to confirm my fear, a massive black
storm cloud loomed directly over the
hospital. A thunderhead like nothing
Id ever seen. I cowered.
Until I noticed something else.
Right in the middle of the cloud
there was another, smaller white
cloud. Staring at that white cloud,
I felt a strange but undeniable
calmness come over me.
Its the calm in the storm, I
thought. Maybe God wasnt
punishing me after all. I pointed out
the cloud to Terrishe was too
emotional to care, reallybut I took a
picture before we headed home.
The next day, Alexs heart rate
came down. I thought of my
photograph. I printed it out and stuck
it up on the refrigerator door in
ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

53

Alex, Terri and Tom this past summer

Jackson. It comforted me somehow.


One evening we were standing
in our hosts kitchen when another
friend glanced at the cloud.
Wow! she exclaimed. What a
beautiful picture of an angel. I
looked closer. Dont you see? she
said, outlining with her finger. That
white cloud is shaped like a baby,
and the black cloud is shaped like an
angel cradling the baby in her arms.
Now I saw the image clearly.
The calm that had come over me in
the parking lot washed over me once
againcoupled with a determination
that I would not let Alex, Terri or
God down. Id stop drinking. I would
become that father Id envisioned.
After 37 days in the hospital, our baby
was able to go home.
54

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

I wish I could say I didnt touch


a drop after that, but still I backslid.
One day, Terri found a can of beer
behind the seat of my truck and told
me flatly that if she ever suspected
me of drinking again, shed take Alex
and leave for good.
We were in our kitchen. Where
Terri had spent so many anxious
hours, wondering whether Id come
home drunk. The determination I
saw in her face frightened me. Then
my eyes fell on the refrigerator
behind her, where Id put the cloud
angel. Wasnt it time I found the calm
in the storm of my life?
The very next day, I went to an
Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.
I was committed. Finally. I stopped
hanging out with friends who
drank. I worked the AA program
and learned to live one day at a time.
It wasnt easy, but now Im 20
years sober. And Alex, who nearly
didnt make it to his first birthday,
started college at Mississippi State
this fall. Terri and I are thankful
our marriage survived those early
rocky years.
I still have the cloud photo. I
consider it a picture of my Higher
Power in action. The one up there
in the heavens holding Alex and Terri
and me in safe, strong hands. The
calm in the middle of our storms. The
one who will never let us go.

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Christmas Towns, USA


One city dedicated to Christmas is good,
three is even better. The residents of
these merry metropolises celebrate Christmas
every day of the year. Thats the spirit!

NORTH POLE, ALASKA


Alaskas Yuletide center is just slightly south of the
true North Pole. Within the city, you can sled along
Snowman Lane, Holiday Road or North Star Drive.
The community celebrates winter with a Christmas in
Ice competition, when angels truly are everywhere.

56

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

LEF T: CHRISTMAS IN ICE; CENTER: SPENCER COUNT Y


VISITORS BUREAU; RIGHT: WIKIMEDIA COMMONS

Destination Angels

BETHLEHEM,
PENNSYLVANIA
For almost 80 years,
a familiar star has shone
down on the town from
the top of South Mountain,
a constant reminder
to residents of the other
Bethlehem, where
Jesus was born. This town
knows how to keep the
Christ in Christmas.

SANTA CLAUS,
INDIANA
Located in the southwestern part of the
state, Santa Claus has
been christened
Americas Christmas
Hometown. Last year
alone, Santa Elves,
Inc., volunteers at the
Santa Claus Post Office,
answered 22,000
letters. Not even the
worlds biggest Saint
Nicholasa 22-foothigh statue dedicated
to the children of the
world in honor of his
lovecould answer
them all by himself.

57

he makes winds his messengers

PSALM 104:4

OULD YOU LOOK AT GOD! That was the focus of our


pastors sermon one Sunday. People use that phrase to describe
something huge in their lives, he said. A good report from the
doctor or a financial blessing out of the blue. But my friend says
it to celebrate little things, like getting a good parking space
or finding something you needed on sale. I thought God didnt
care about those little things. But he does.
What a great perspective,
I thought as I left the church. I
should try it myself.
But by later that afternoon,
with my many errands to run, Id
forgotten all about the sermon.
I stopped at a big wholesale store
with my seven-year-old, Marin.
The cashier handed her the receipt
while I balanced our bulk items in
my arms. Hold onto that receipt,
I told her. Id purchased a clothing
item I wasnt sure would fit her and
needed the option to return it.
But as soon as we stepped
outside a huge gust of wind blew
the receipt from Marins hands.
I watched helplessly as it flew across the enormous parking lot.
There was no way I would ever catch it.
I took a moment to rearrange my items before we walked on to
the car. Suddenly the wind shifted. One rectangular piece of paper
escaped the cluster of debris, blew in our direction and landed at
my feet. Marin reached down and picked it upmy receipt!
I smiled at my little one. Would you look at God!

TARICE GRAY, STRATFORD, CONNECTICUT

58

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

ILLUSTRATION BY ELEF THERIA ALE X ANDRI

B LL
Bu ig -NE
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are registered trademarks of GreatCall, Inc. 2016 GreatCall, Inc. 2016 firstSTREET for Boomers and Beyond, Inc.

only human?

T HAD TO BE CLOSE . But where, exactly, was the spot our


friends told us about? This could be it, my friend Jeanie said,
turning the car onto a narrow road heading into the forest.
We were suburban teenagers in the sixties, Jeanie had just
gotten her drivers license, and like in American Graffiti, we
spent our evenings after school driving around, going to dances
and diners. That day a group of boys from our class had invited
us to a spot in the woods where theyd
cleared a path for motor biking. Of
course we said wed come!
The sun was setting and it was difficult
to see very far ahead of us. Did they
say anything about that? I said when we
passed an abandoned machine shop.
No, but did you see what that sign
said?
Huh? What sign? I craned my
neck to look behind us but the back of
the sign was blank.
Stop the car! a voice yelled. Jeanie
hit the brakes. We screeched to a halt.
We couldnt see anybody around the car.
Who had shouted? One of the boys,
hiding among the trees?
I got out and looked back down the road. Then I looked ahead.
The car had stopped just in front of a 40-foot ravine. A few more
inches and we would have dropped right into it. This was certainly
not any spot our friends would have picked for motor biking.
Put the car in reverse, I said, my voice trembling. I got back
in and Jeanie slowly backed up. Now we both clearly saw what
the sign saidDanger: No Trespassing.

SUSAN BANKS-YURIK, PARMA, OHIO

60

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

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earning their wings

Sovereign on her left, Doris on her rightDebras got angels on either side.

After-Hours Club
DEBRA DOWNING
ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA

m a night owl and dont go


rushing home from the school
where I teach as soon as the
dismissal bell rings. And because I
stay late, I know all the custodians
who come in long after that bell.
Some I know well enough to know
they are praying people.
The Tuesday before Thanksgiving
last year, I asked two of themone
from Ghana, the other from Trinidad
to pray that my blood levels would
62

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

be good enough to undergo my


fourth chemotherapy treatment for
uterine cancer. They put down
their brooms to pray for me right
then and there.
Next the women began to sing
in unison. I recognized the song as
biblical. Where two or three are
gathered together, my friends sang,
there I am in the midst of them.
The words sank deep into my heart.
I made it to my treatment, and
my last one was in May 2015. Im
still a night owl. Who wants to
be a morning person if it means
missing moments like that.

Pre-owned, Pre-prayed
REBEKKAH HOGSETT
HUNTINGTON, WEST VIRGINIA

offee sloshed onto my white


blouse when I stopped at a red
light. I blotted the stain with a
napkin, but what I really needed was
some of that travel-size spot
remover. I was driving a new-to-me
car and hadnt yet stocked the glove
compartment with such essentials.
The tire light lit up. What to
do about that? I opened the glove
compartment to look around for
the owners manual.
There I discovered a zip-lock
bag with a lens cloth for my glasses,
a mini sewing kitand a stainremover stick.
When I ran into a friend of the
cars original owner, I told her how
the care package in the glove box
really came in handy. That was
assembled just for you, the friend
said. Prayers for your safety
included. Wow! The perks of a
pre-owned vehicle.

On-the-go
essentials

Officer Jeff, Arianna and his cross

Cross Your Heart


LAURA NICHOLS, TROY, ILLINOIS

y eight-year-old, Arianna, loved


making bead crosses. Friends
at school, our waitresses, cashiers
everyone she encountered got one of
her colorful creations. My friend
Sarah got two crosses when she told
Arianna she was married to a police
officer. Arianna followed up with a
big handful for the precinct.
To date shes made and sent out
more than 21,600 crosses for first
responders. Most of the recipients
want to meet the little girl making
them. When we toured the New
Baden, Illinois, police department,
Officer Jeff Mavrogeorge even
let Arianna sit in a police cruiser.
Go to our Facebook page
Ariannas Cross Missionto make
requests for the first responders
in your life.
ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

63

Messengers to the Dads


That first Christmas the expectant fathers
heard from heaven too
BY RICK HAMLIN, SENIOR CONTRIBUTING EDITOR
URING LAST years Christmas
pageant at our church, I
watched as the angel Gabriel
appeared to Mary and told her the
good news, that she would give birth
to a son named Jesus who would
be called Gods Son. But in the same
performance of tinfoil-covered
crowns and angels in cardboard
wings, there was another scene
starring the busy Gabriel, this time
alerting the aged Zechariah that
his good wife Elizabeth would soon
give birth to a boy named John.
Thats right, I thought. The angels
appeared to the dads too. Maybe I
was recalling my own anxieties when
I was an expectant father. How I
couldve used angelic comfort that all
would be well, and that God was
present and that my offspring would
grow up to do good things at a time
when I couldnt imagine how wed
afford a child let alone a baby
carriage, a crib and a changing table
(did we really need one of those?).
Not surprisingly, the angels in the

64

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

Christmas story kept dads clued in.


Take Zechariah. His story appears
right at the beginning of the Gospel
of Luke. He was a good and holy man,
a priest at the temple, blameless
and righteous. For many years hed
been praying for a child but his
wife, Elizabeth, hadnt been able to
conceive and by now she was well
past her child-bearing years.
Imagine his surprise when Gabriel
shows up at the temple to say that
Zechariah and Elizabeth will have
a son who will bring the Israelites
back to the Lord.
How can I be sure of this?
Zechariah asks, filled with doubt.
My wife and I are very old, he says,
sounding not unlike 100-year-old
Abraham when told that 99-year-old
wife, Sara, would conceive.
Unaccustomed to being
challenged, Gabriel asserts himself.
I am Gabriel, he proclaims. I was
sent to speak to you and to bring this
good news to you. Know this: What
I have spoken will come true. Then

FINE ART IMAGES/ALAMY

he punishes Zechariah for his lack


of faith by silencing him. Zechariah
will be mute, unable to speak until
the day when these things happen,
as Gabriel puts it.
For her part Elizabeth keeps the
good news to herself for months
until her cousin Mary shows up, the
two celebrating their great fortune
together, the feisty baby John leaping
in Elizabeths womb.
Indeed Zechariah cant say
anything until the baby is eight days
old and ready to be circumcised.
All the friends and relatives want to
name the child Zechariah after
his father. No, Elizabeth says, he is
meant to be John. They turn in
bewilderment to Zechariah who asks

Archangel Gabriel Striking Zechariah Dumb


by Alexander Andreyevich Ivanov

for a tablet and writes the name


down, JOHN. It was foreseen. At once
Zechariahs voice comes back
and he bursts into a song of praise.
Bless the Lord God of Israel
because he has come to help and has
delivered his people he says,
thrilled to be used by God. His child
will grow up to be John the Baptist,
who will in fact baptize his own
cousin Jesus one day, no doubt long
after his parents have passed on.
The other dad in the Christmas
story is, of course, Joseph, and the
angels are just as attentive to him.
Like Zechariah, Joseph is described
ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

65

as a righteous man, although merely


a carpenter not a priest at the temple.
When Joseph learned his betrothed
Mary was pregnant before they were
even married, he didnt want to
embarrass her or humiliate her and
decided to call off the engagement
quietly, as the Bible puts it.
Enter the angel, appearing to
Joseph in a dream to let him know
whats up. Joseph son of David,
the angel says, dont be afraid to take
Mary as your wife, because the
child she carries was conceived by the
Holy Spirit. She will give birth to
a son, and you will call him Jesus
Joseph wakes up and, according
to the Gospel of Matthew, does
exactly what the angel says without
equivocation. Joseph marries
Mary and takes her to Bethlehem
where Jesus is born. He acts with
gentleness and humility, responding
to his heavenly clues with alacrity.
The angel appears in two more
dreams to Joseph, always ensuring
the safety of his wife and child. First
the angel warns Joseph that King
Herod has become furiously jealous of
this new king supposedly born in
Bethlehem. The violent and quixotic
Herod will soon send soldiers to
kill all the male children in Bethlehem
who are two years old or younger.
Get up, the angel tells Joseph.
Take the child and his mother and
66

escape to Egypt. Stay there until


I tell you, for Herod will soon search
for the child in order to kill him.
Once again, Joseph acts almost
immediately, taking Mary and the
Baby Jesus under the cover of
darkness to Egypt. The Bible doesnt
say how long they stayed there, but
it is an angel who lets Joseph know that
King Herod has died and its safe
to return to Israel. Those who were
trying to kill the child are dead, the
angel says. Traveling north, Joseph
brings his wife and Jesus to the
area of Galilee and the young family
settles in Nazareth.
As everyone who has sat through
a Christmas pageant or been in
one knows, angels take a major role,
not only when Gabriel comes to
Mary, but more popularly when the
heavenly host appears to the
shepherds and delivers the good news,
Glory to God in heaven, and on
earth peace among those whom he
favors. But as a dad, I delight in
looking at these lesser-known
incidents, not as often portrayed in
auditoriums or on sanctuary steps.
Its nice to think that when tough
decisions have to be made or danger
lurks, a heavenly messenger is there.
If I got such a message, I hope Id
act more like Joseph than Zechariah.
Get up, the angel says. Joseph
did just that.

Rick Hamlin performs his favorite Christmas songs at angelsonearth.org/hamlincarols

letters & messages


forth. When Joe got cancer I
thought we should stop and told
him I lost the card.
No, I have it! he said. One
day youll find it in your mailbox.
Joe died soon after. When I least
expected, I did get Joes card, and
the return address was Heaven.
Inside Joe had written in his lighthearted way, Wish you were here.
MARY WHITNEY
LEAVITTSBURG, OHIO

Friends forever: Memories of Joes


many jokes keep a smile on Marks face.
MARK GILLETTE
PINEVILLE, LOUISIANA

ears ago I received a promotional


Y
Christmas card in the mail, the
kind thats really an ad for more cards.
Instead, I sent it to my best friend of
20 years, the worlds biggest joker. Joe
will think Im really cheap! I thought
when I dropped it in the mailbox.
Next December, I received the
same card in the mail. Joe had
scratched out the name and put in
his own! It turned into a seven-year
game. Mardi Gras, Presidents Day,
even National Chocolate Ice Cream
Daywe sent the card back and
68

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

one early autumn day.


Moms life had changed so much
recently. Wed moved her from
Florida to Ohio to be closer to us
in her declining health. I added
pumpkin patch to her bucket list,
but I had no idea where to find
one nearby. The next morning, I
heard Mom open the door to
let her dog out.
Just look!
Mom called.
Right beside
the porch railing,
a small orange
ball glistened on
a vine. Angels
had brought the
pumpkin patch
Mary almost missed
this little pumpkin.
to Mom.

BOTTOM: MARY WHITNEY

umpkin patches were Moms


P
favorite sign of fall. Id love
to find a patch out here, she said

happy holiday, it said. Mom was


reading with me after all.
MARY JONES
COLONIAL HEIGHTS, VIRGINIA

hex Mixour favorite


C
Christmas snack, but I was out
of Worcestershire sauce. I pulled into

A timely message
JANET PERRY ANDERSON
TOWNSEND, GEORGIA

om got me a gift subscription to


M
Angels on Earth for Christmas.
But before we could look at the
Angels stories together, Mom passed
away. Whats the fun of reading
without her? I thought one day as I
took in the mail. In the stack was
the Angels gift notice coming several
weeks late, or in Gods own time.
Barbara Holbrook wishes you a

Walgreens. You on a mission too?


a man in the grocery aisle asked.
Worcestershire, I said.
I need vanilla extract. We both
left empty-handed.
Say, we have Worcestershire at
home, the man said with hope.
I have vanilla, and I live just
around the corner.
We met back in the parking lot for
our gift exchange. Christmas truly
is the season for giving and receiving.
See all things angels on our Pinterest
page at pinterest.com/aoemag
Connect with us on Facebook at
facebook.com/angelsonearth

ANGELS ON EARTH:
Statement of ownership, management and circulation of Angels on Earth (publication number 14486) published bimonthly
(6 issues published annually) by Guideposts, 39 Old Ridgebury Rd., Suite 27, Danbury, CT 06810 as required by the Act of
August 12, 1970, Section 3685, Title 39, United States Code as filed on September 19, 2016. The names and addresses of
the publisher and the editor-in-chief are: Publisher, Rocco Martino, Guideposts, 39 Old Ridgebury Rd., Suite 27, Danbury, CT
06810. Editor-in-Chief, Colleen Hughes, Guideposts, 110 William St., Suite 901, New York, NY 10038. The owner is
Guideposts, 39 Old Ridgebury Rd., Suite 27, Danbury, CT 06810, a nonprofit organization. Names and addresses of individual
owners; None. The known bondholders, mortgagees and other security holders owning or holding one percent or more of total
amount of bonds, mortgages or other securities: None. The exempt status has not changed during preceding 12 months. Annual
Subscription Price: $19.95. Average number of copies of each issue during preceding 12 months, and of the single issue nearest
to filing date, respectively, are as follows: Total number of copies printed (net press run) 353,946375,000; Paid distribution
(sales through dealers and carriers, street vendors and counter sales) 00; Paid mail subscriptions 336,896352,432; Total
paid distribution 336,896352,432; Free or nominal rate distribution 1,6451,480; Total distribution 338,541353,912;
Copies not distributed 15,40521,088; Percent paid 99.5%99.6%.

ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

69

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2 0 17 P R E V I E W

Daily Guideposts
Sing to the Lord with grateful praise...
Psalm 147:7 (NIV)
AM TIRED TODAY.
Very, very tired.
Up all night with our
brand-new puppy.
Shoehorned on to a
rush-hour subway that
moved at the same
speed I walk.
Bombarded the minute
I stepped into the office
by meeting reminders,
well-meaning
colleagues with
questions they could
easily answer for
themselves, a croaking chorus of
coughing and a screen full of e-mails.
And it was only 9:00 A.M.
Then I thought about my wife,
Julee, cursing her lupus but climbing
out of bed and into the shower
because she had promised to have
breakfast with a friend who needed
a shoulder to cry on. I thought about
my puppy, Gracie, bravely holding
her bodily functions until she got two

feet outside our apartment


building. I considered all
those commuters crammed
onto the subway car. Who
among them felt beaten
down for one reason
or another that I would
never know?
I glanced at my desk,
messy but full of things
I wanted to do. I surveyed
my colleagues, who made
me look a lot better at my
job than I actually am,
people I loved spending
my workdays with.
I am tired today. Very, very tired.
Yet not so tired I cant manage to see
the blessings all around me, gifts
that I will never tire of.
I live a full life, Lord, that can
sometimes feel too full. Let me never
be too weary to see your abundant
blessings all around me.
EDWARD GRINNAN

Daily Guideposts is a book of 365 uplifting devotions. To order the 2017 edition, visit
guideposts.org/dg17; write to Guideposts, P.O. Box 5815, Harlan, IA 51593-1315; or call
(800) 932-2145. The book is available in a hardcover edition for $15.95 or in a softcover
large-print edition for $16.95, plus shipping and processing.

ANGELSONEARTH.ORG

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Angels on Earth, a bimonthly magazine from Guideposts, presents true stories about
heavenly angels and humans who have played angelic roles in daily life.
Editorial Office
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Creative Director Kayo Der Sarkissian
Staff Editor Meg Belviso
Associate Editor Tanya Richardson
Editorial Assistant Alexandria Bova
Senior Contributing Editors Rick Hamlin,

Ptolemy Tompkins, Amy Wong


Contributing Editors Diana Aydin, Allison Churchill,
Dan Hoffman, Adam Hunter, Danielle Eliska Lyle,
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Nicole Notare, Elizabeth Sherrill, John Sherrill,
Stephanie Thompson
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Senior Vice Presidents:

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For ad inquiries, go to guideposts.org/media
Founders Ruth Stafford Peale and Norman Vincent Peale

Angels on Earth invites but cannot be responsible for unsolicited manuscripts. To be returned, manuscripts must be accompanied by a self-addressed,
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mailing offices. Canadian mailed under Publications Mail Agreement Number 40010140, Canadian GST #893989236. Copyright 2016 by
Guideposts, all rights reserved. Volume 22, No. 2. Issue date: Nov/Dec 2016. Printed in U.S.A. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to Guideposts,
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74

ANGELS ON EARTH | NOV/DEC 2016

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- Black
TB9025MBB
- Black/Red TB90022MRG

Our patented VersoShock technology provides the


ultimate protection for the entire body in a way no
other shoe can. It is designed to absorb harmful shock
from the ground up, converting the shock into renewed
positive energy for your next step. Having this kind of
cushioning allows you to not only physically feel better,
but improve your posture and be on your feet longer
without any restrictions holding you back.

Women Sizes 5-11


- Aqua/Green TB9022FYU
- Black/Blue TB9022FTL
- Gray/Teal TB9022FGU

115 00

$145 $

OFFder
$3000Your
Or

WITHOUT GRAVITY DEFYERS...

Free Exchanges Easy Returns

Promo Code: PK3LHD5

WITH GRAVITY DEFYERS...

Call 1(800) 429-0039


GravityDefyer.com/PK3LHD5
Gravity Defyer Corp.
10643 Glenoaks Blvd. Pacoima, CA 91331
*Payment options and terms available at checkout. Credit or debit accepted. Shoes must be
returned within 30 days in like-new condition for fullrefund or exchange. Credit card authorization
required. See website for complete details. Free shipping on orders over $200 in the United States.

Get up, the


angel tells Joseph.
Take the child
and his mother and
escape to Egypt.

WHITFORD & HUGHES/BRIDGEMAN IMAGES

MATTHEW 2:13

The Flight Into Egypt by Jean-Lon Grme

angelsonearth.org
Please join us online every day
for a lift to your spirit.

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