An Angel Called My Name: Incredible true stories from the other side. Theresa Cheung

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СКАЧАТЬ off their feet. I was about to leave when a barista clearing up a table asked me if I was looking for something. I told her I may have lost my mobile and was delighted when she said that she had found one and put it safe behind the counter. When she came back with my mobile in her hand I wanted to thank her personally, so I looked at her name card. Her name was Angelina. I hadn’t seen her at the coffee bar before and I haven’t seen her since.

      One of the things I have always found so hard to accept about spiritual retreats and gatherings is that everyone looks so serious and earnest. I remember once going to a summer solstice celebration. When I got there almost everybody was wearing black and the ‘celebrations’ consisted of mournful music playing in the background, lectures about the looming threat of global warming and if you didn’t fancy that you could sign up for an impossibly difficult yoga session with a teacher who had had a sense of humour bypass. The only refreshment on offer was watered-down orange juice and rich tea biscuits. I’m not joking! Thankfully, stories like the ones above prove that not only do angels have a sense of humour, they also love to hear the sound of our laughter. They don’t take themselves too seriously and neither should we.

      As well as lightening our hearts with laughter and offering gentle messages of comfort, guidance and inspiration to those willing to listen with an open heart and an open mind, angels can intervene more directly in our lives through the healing power of touch. What Kate experienced offers powerful testimony that angels don’t always conform to the stereotypical ‘mystical’ image, complete with wings and white gowns. They can also be extremely practical, direct and hands on.

      Unseen Hands

      On many occasions in my life I have felt that angels are near, but on one occasion I am certain that one actually touched me – or rather hit me.

      I was 15 at the time and boys rather than angels were on my mind. My mum was very health conscious and always nagging me to eat my fruit and vegetables. She used to put a bowl of apples in my bedroom in the hope I’d snack on them rather than on junk food.

      One night my brother was staying overnight with a friend and my mum went to bed early. It was a situation I loved – staying up late in my room with the door shut, listening to music and dreaming about a boy I fancied with no one to bother me or send me on errands or tell me to tidy my room. I had a chilled-out night and at about midnight I decided to go to bed. I got changed into my night clothes. I felt a bit peckish and for once was grateful to my mum for leaving a bowl of fruit in my room.

      I grabbed an apple, took four or five very big bites, turned out the light and flopped into bed lying face down.

      It felt as if my lungs were bursting and I couldn’t get any air. I tried to call mum but could only gasp. A piece of apple was stuck in my throat. I was choking to death. Suddenly I heard the door open. I heard no footsteps but someone whacked my back once. The blow was hard but I spat out the piece of apple and air instantly filled my lungs. I rolled over expecting to see my brother or my mother. There was no one in my room. The house was as quiet as it had been all night.

      Still shaking, I stumbled into my mum’s bedroom and woke her up. She was astonished and we both searched the house. My mum asked me if I had been dreaming but I told her I most certainly had not. I had felt this huge hand on me. My mum asked me to turn around and she gasped and told me to have a look over my shoulder in the mirror. Although it was beginning to fade there was a definite mark on my back but it wasn’t the mark of a normal hand it was the mark of something much bigger.

      I can recall the events of that night as if they happened yesterday. The mark has faded but my memory of it hasn’t. I can’t tell you how comforting it is for me to know that an angel saved me from choking that night.

      Remember the smell theme mentioned previously, when a grieving widow was comforted and encouraged by the smell of winter roses? We’re returning to it here. George, a retired entrepreneur, tells this enchanting tale.

      Heaven Scent

      About ten years ago I was, in the eyes of the world, extremely successful. I ran my own business and it was thriving. I lived in a large house in a leafy suburb and had a holiday home in Spain. I had a lovely wife and three beautiful grown-up children thriving in their jobs or at university. I had a close circle of friends and my health was good. My cup was full; but looking back I wasn’t nearly as fulfilled as I thought I was.

      Ever since my children left home I had kind of lost my way. Instead of slowing down to deal with my feelings of loss and fear of getting old I speeded up. I expanded my business and invested in several properties abroad. I splashed out on a ridiculously expensive Porsche I didn’t really need.

      One Sunday afternoon my wife and I were invited to an afternoon gathering by Alan, one of my oldest friends. Alan had been a great help me to in the early days of my business, offering to lend me money when no one else would and I was forever in his debt. When we arrived at the party everyone present was well dressed and eloquent but there was one person completely out of place. Sitting hunched and dishevelled in a distant corner with a confused expression on his face was a middle-aged man. His clothes looked like they had come from a charity shop. I had never met him before and when I asked Alan who he was I was immediately introduced to ‘Thomas’. Reluctantly, I held out my hand and Thomas grabbed it, grinning enthusiastically and revealing a set of yellow teeth.

      It was then that this smell hit me. This guy smelled strongly of lavender soap. I remember thinking how strange it was for someone so untidy to smell so good. I scanned the room for Alan to rescue me but he was mingling with other members of the group and had his back turned to me. I stayed for a few moments with Thomas, and talked about the weather I think, before pretending I needed to go to the rest room.

      It was a lazy Sunday afternoon so we stayed at the gathering, enjoying the tonic of good conversation and good food. As people were starting to drift home Alan took me aside and asked me to if I could do him a big favour. He told me that he had joined a volunteer programme and was giving Thomas a ride every day from his doctor back to his care home. He was going on holiday for ten days the following week and needed someone to take Thomas instead while he was away.

      I quickly glanced at Thomas nodding off in the same corner that I had left him and said to Alan, ‘Look mate, I really don’t think I’m the person you should be asking. I’m rushed off my feet at the moment with work and the new properties. I just don’t think I’ve got the time.’ Alan looked disappointed so I tried to make a joke of it. ‘Have pity, mate. I’ve just bought a brand new Porsche. It’s my pride and joy. No offence, but this guy would cramp my style.’

      I tried to walk away but Alan wouldn’t have any of it. He grabbed my arm, looked me directly in the eye and told me that it really wasn’t much to ask and besides I owed him. I was shocked. This was the first time Alan had ever tried to use emotional blackmail. I wasn’t having it. I didn’t want anything to do with this uncouth Thomas guy. For the first time ever, Alan and I parted company that evening with a stilted handshake and pursed lips.

      The next day as I was driving in my brand new Porsche, I was suddenly aware of a strong smell of lavender in my car. It reminded me of Thomas. I rolled down my windows thinking it must have come from outside.

      The next day I gave my wife a lift in the Porsche and the lavender smell was as strong as ever. I asked my wife if she could smell it but she didn’t know what I was talking about. I didn’t know what was causing it. For the next few days, every time I drove the lavender smell would accompany me. Sometimes I thought it wouldn’t arrive but within ten minutes of driving I felt like I was in a flower shop.

      The Sunday after the party СКАЧАТЬ