Lyrically there is a reference to an Angel appearing to tell a story about the sweet love between the moon and the deep blue sea. Jimi wrote “Angel” in reference to a dream he had about his mother, Lucille Hendrix, when he was a child.
I Interpret this slightly differently
I believe in God or a higher being. It’s what gives me my soul, my consciousness, my spark, a feeling of love and wrongdoing, the sense of guilt. Religion confuses me – why do we fight against our fellow man just because people have different beliefs?
Yes I do
I believe in Angels and have been lucky enough to meet several.
Each one of my encounters with an Archangel sent from high has rescued me from sticky situations.
The first encounter
The first meeting with a spirit was when I ended up sitting in the middle of a single track lane, my wheelchair next to me. I had taken a fall because of impacting the bank hiding underneath the dark shadowed tree-lined road. At the time, I was unable to lift myself into my wheelchair from the floor. Before, mobile phone technology was available for ordinary people, so I had no means to call for help. Due to my location, I doubt I would have had any reception if I had a phone at that time and been able to call for help?
I sat under the trees, expecting to get hit by a car if one came speeding around the bend, unsure how to deal with the situation. Unknown to me, help was only moments away.
Through the hedge line and the quietness of the remote lane, I sense the presents of an oncoming car snaking its way through the lane. I must have made it to the track edge as the car pulled to a halt, somehow avoiding me. This Angel who had come to my rescue was able to lift me into my wheelchair and offer me safe passage home. I recall a VW Golf to be the choice of chariot for the winged helper.
Living in the community I do, a lot of people know me. After the hospital discharged me, I lived with my parents. Before the big paper mills in the village closed and got demolished, when the pubs were busy, even more people recognised me.
One night, I decided to depart from a taxi some distance from my house for some strange reason. It was a bitterly cold winters evening, and I couldn’t manage to propel my self. Slumping forward in my chair, I don’t think I will be able to get to the warmth of home.
A car pulled up, and people are there helping me. Managing to transfer into their vehicle, unsure if I got in independently or with help, I am in with heaters on me and driven to the warm glow of home. Then I am conscious of being in the kitchen with the helpers talking to my parents. I am glad to be home and safe but feel guilty I had worried my parents.
Again I am not sitting in my wheelchair. It is the early hours of a weekend morning, and a car missed me once more. Somehow, I had taken another tumble from the said carriage and was lying in the road at the farthest end of the village I now call home. My saviour, in this case, had pilot stripes on his shoulders. I guess this aviator must have been on his way to Heathrow for a morning take off? He just stopped, got out and helped me back into my chair. I was again very grateful.
The last story of these saints who have helped me was after my best mate was ill and didn’t want the burden of life to trouble him any more.
One night sat in the pub, late, feeling sorry for myself and him. Wishing I had tried to reach out more to him. While wheeling home, I misjudged a particular piece of the path and ended up lying on a flowery verge of a front garden. Unable to get back to the safety of my seat, I called my wife. Lovingly she said she would come to my rescue.
After several long moments, a couple came emerged from the corner, making their way towards me. Wanting to get to the protection of my chair, I asked the male to assist, which he gladly did. Just as I sat up in my wheelchair, pleased to be able to carry on with my journey home, I look up and see my wife coming angrily towards me.
All different times
Each of the above stories was associated with being out; admittedly, too, my alcoholic beverage may have been consumed. The Archangels who came on each occasion got thanked at the time. I want to say another thank you again!
Not all the assistance and support I have received has been in these situations. Sometimes help has come just to do simple things like reaching for an item in the supermarket.
At each event, I was able to use verbal independence to support the angel to assist me. Wheelchair skills training isn’t just about being able to do everything on your own.