acts of kindness

Trusting Our Intuition Led Us to Three Angels in Alabama

As I shared on my blog last Saturday, John and I were to be enjoying a three-week vacation mid-March through the first weekend of April. But after one day at our campsite and the fast-developing crisis with COVID-19 we left early Tuesday morning to head back home.

Stories are emerging of beautiful acts of kindness as we all come to grips with what is transpiring in our world. They sure are uplifting me. 

So I wanted to share what happened to us on our brief travels south as it was truly a blessed intervention.

Sunday around 5 pm we’d made our last stop for gas at a small gas station off I-65. After filling the tank of our van, John jumped back in the driver’s seat. When he turned the key in the ignition the dashboard lights lit up and the van wouldn’t start.

He realized that the shifter was loose and wouldn’t go into drive, park or reverse. It was like a wet noodle that wouldn’t shift into any gear.

Now what?!

John went inside the station to ask the clerk to call us a tow truck. As he did, I sat in the van, folded my hands in prayer and said out loud, “God, we could really use a miracle, please.”

When John came back out he fiddled more with the shifter and said, “It must be the linkage that broke.”

We weren’t quite sure what to do at first, but then John came up with a plan. We’d have the tow truck pull us to the nearest wayside where we’d boondock for the night. For those not familiar with boondocking, we’d have a place to sleep in our R-pod, but no electrical or water hook-up—we’d kind of be like truckers who pull over to get some sleep before heading out on the road again. In the morning we’d call a tow truck to take us to the nearest mechanic.

I felt comfortable, well, as comfortable as I could be with that plan. Just then a white pick up truck pulled into the gas station parking lot. I didn’t say it out loud, but I thought to myself, I wonder if that man is a mechanic?

It was only a few seconds later that John said, ” I wonder if that man is a mechanic?”

I looked at him in surprise and said, “He just has to be since we both just thought it!”

A few seconds later another man pulled up in a red pick up truck and walked inside the gas station. When John entered the station again the two men were conversing. John interrupted them to ask if the one was a mechanic.

He indeed was. The other guy owned a tire company and they were buddies. When John  told them what was wrong with the shifter they both said in unison, “It’s the linkage.”

Soon enough they were all standing outside our van. The mechanic crawled underneath and took a look and said the coil that held the links together appeared to have rusted through. We needed a welder.

So, I’m not kidding you. As he discovered this, another man pulls up in a pick-up truck. 

You guessed it. He was a welder and he was buddies with the other two men.

And it gets better… the man had a shop which was only about a mile away. He was willing to fix it for us and said it wouldn’t take long.

So the mechanic got the linkage to work just enough and actually put it in drive which meant we couldn’t stop once we got moving and we couldn’t shift gears or it would break the linkage again. But it would be enough to follow the welder down the road to his shop.

As it turned out, the pin was missing to the coil that held the links together. The man just happened to have one in his shop. He had it fixed within less than a half-hour. All the time he never made eye contact and said very few words.

When John asked what he wanted for fixing he said, “Just a few bucks is fine.” Though John gave him more than that and we were on our way.

I realized as we drove away how both John and my intuition served us well and how had we not followed it the situation would have turned out far differently and cost us so much more.

As we drove down the highway amazed at what unfolded we gave thanks for our prayers being answered and how we were sent three angels disguised as a mechanic, a tire guy, and a welder.

After writing this for my blog, I let it sit before publishing it as I sometimes do.

It was then during the night when I woke thinking about how those three angels could also be called oracles. And oracles being symbols and signs in the outside world that help guide us to our highest good. One never knows how oracles will appear or present themselves.

Typically when I do an oracle reading for myself or a client I do a three-card spread. We begin with the question that the person is pondering.

Then drawing three cards each represents an aspect of the question to guide us to an outcome.

The first card represents the current situation, second card the next right action step, and third card the possible outcome should they follow the suggestion of the next right action card.

Every day our lives are playing out as a story in motion. So thinking about the three angels from Alabama or a.k.a. oracles, here is how I saw it unfold as our story in motion via an oracle reading. Note: I purposely chose three cards from “The Wisdom of the Oracle” that I feel represented each aspect of the unfolding.

Card one – our current situation: Fork in the Road

Our situation was that we were stuck at a gas station on a Sunday evening at 5 pm in a state where we didn’t know anyone and we were in need of a mechanic. We had to come up with a plan of which there were many avenues we could consider.

Card two – Next right action step: Deep Knowing

This is when we’d be asked to be still and tap into our intuition, but most importantly, follow it as it does not always show up as an obvious sign or like a flashing sign saying, “This is it!”

Both John and I had the same thought when a man in a white pick-up pulled into the parking lot – was he a mechanic? We trusted that ‘knowing’ which led us to discover he indeed was a mechanic and that he was also with a man who owned a tire business, who would be another link to what unfolded next.

Our action step was that we needed to move from our current location with help from someone to get our vehicle fixed. The man who had the tire business was symbolic in that he would get us ‘rolling or moving’ to where we could receive the help we needed.

Card three – possible outcome: Blessed

For our situation, the tire man who just happened to know the next man that showed up at the gas station who was a welder. As the mechanic temporarily rigged up the linkage that put the van in drive, we put in place our faith that all would unfold and would help get us on our way as we followed the welder angel to his shop about one mile down the road.

Considering our options (Fork in the Road), following our intuition (Deep Knowing), staying calm, asking for help, and trusting the three men that showed up as our oracles made for a very happy outcome (Blessed).

Seriously! Isn’t this so cool how the universe guides us if we just get out of our own way?

P.S. Perhaps you are wondering about the clerk who called a tow truck? Did the tow truck show up? Turns out when I went inside to ask him to cancel the tow truck he told me did never made the call. For a moment I felt annoyed that he hadn’t but realized soon enough it was all part of the plan. 🙂

xo,

Barbara

The Cab Ride

The therapy dog team, Ted and Ruby  who I shared their story in a recent post, sent me this wonderful story.  How one simple act of kindness can have such an amazing impact on the world.

The  Cab  Ride

I arrived at the address and honked the horn.
After waiting a few minutes
I walked to the door and knocked.
‘Just a minute’, answered a
frail, elderly voice. I could hear something
being dragged across the floor.

 After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in
her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a
print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned
on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.

By her side was a small nylon
suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had
lived in it for years. All the furniture was
covered with sheets.

 There were no
clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils
on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and
glassware.

 ‘Would you carry my bag
out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase
to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

 She took my arm and we walked
slowly toward the curb.

 She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I
told her. ‘I just try to treat my passengers
the way I would want my mother treated’.

 ‘Oh, you’re such a good
boy’, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave
me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive
through downtown?’

 ‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly.

 ‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said.
‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice’.

 I looked in the rear-view mirror.
Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have
any family left,’ she continued in a soft
voice. ‘The doctor says I don’t have very long.’
I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

 ‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.

 For the next two hours, we drove through the city.
She showed me the building where she had once
worked as an elevator operator.

 We drove through the
neighborhood where she and her husband had lived
when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in
front of a furniture warehouse that had once
been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

 Sometimes she’d ask me to slow
in front of a particular building or corner and
would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

 As the first hint of sun was
creasing the horizon, she suddenly said,
‘I’m tired. Let’s go now’.

 We drove in
silence to the address she had given me. It was
a low building, like a small convalescent home,
with a driveway that passed under a portico.

 Two orderlies came out to
the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were
solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.

 I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to
the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

 ‘How much do I owe you?’
she asked, reaching into her purse.

 ‘Nothing,’ I said.

 ‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.

 ‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.

 Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.
She held onto me tightly.

 ‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said.
‘Thank you.’

 I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the
dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut.
It was the sound of the closing of a life.

 I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift.
I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that
day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had
gotten an angry driver, or one who was
impatient to end his shift?
What if I had refused to take the run,
or had honked once, then driven away?

 On a quick
review, I don’t think that I have done anything
more important in my life.

 We’re  conditioned to think that our lives revolve
around great moments.

 But great
moments often catch us unaware-beautifully
wrapped in what others may consider a small one.