81: Three-Dollar Miracle

81: Three-Dollar Miracle

From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Angels and Miracles

Three-Dollar Miracle

We all have a guardian angel, sent down from above.

To keep us safe from harm and surround us with their love.

~Author Unknown

I braced myself against the biting spring wind as I walked through the pharmacy’s sliding doors into the parking lot. I stuffed my empty hands into my coat pockets. They were empty, too. Disgusted, I shook my head. What had my life come to? I didn’t even have enough money to refill my prescription. The time had come to admit it. I was broke.

How quickly I had stepped over that line. One day I was holding a paycheck and the next day I was holding a pink slip. Twenty-two years of employment hadn’t meant much when my company decided to cut costs. With a mortgage and plenty of other bills to pay, I blew through my savings in no time. Now, here I stood, unable to purchase a simple necessity for the lack of three dollars.

My feet felt leaden and I stood outside that pharmacy for a long time, despite the gusting wind, pondering my dilemma. I felt so desperate, I even entertained the idea of asking the next customer who walked toward the pharmacy for the three dollars I needed.

My late mother would have taken a different tack, I thought, as I stood there contemplating my next move. Mom had long subscribed to the notion that we are each assigned a guardian angel — ready to help out in tough situations, waiting to be asked for assistance. Mom made no apologies to anyone about her firm belief and much to the amusement of many naysayers had actually given her guardian angel a name.

I had been one of those naysayers. Yet at that moment I felt so hopeless, a cry came from deep inside me: “I’ve tried to do everything right. I worked hard and now I have nothing to show for it. I’m scared. If my guardian angel is really out there,” I pled, “please help me.” Then I tipped my head down to keep the dust in the air from blowing into my eyes. And right in front of me, three dollar bills floated directly toward my feet.

While my practical side prefers to maintain a healthy skepticism about such things, I no longer count myself among the doubters. That experience in a windy parking lot seems like proof positive that I do have a guardian angel. I’ve been pondering names for her for quite a while now. I’m not sure, but think I’ll call her “Mom.”

~Monica A. Andermann

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