14: Desert Angel

14: Desert Angel

From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Touched by an Angel

Desert Angel

The prayer that begins with trustfulness and passes on into waiting will always end in thankfulness, triumph, and praise.

~Alexander Maclaren

My husband John and I were doing what we liked best — traveling by motor coach out west. Miles of deserted highway lay ahead. Our eyes played tricks on us as the scorching sun transformed the hot pavement into shimmering ripples of water. Our throats felt extremely parched.

“Let’s take a break and get a cool drink from the cooler,” John suggested. That’s when we heard a loud boom, and the motor coach careened off the road.

“Are you alright?” John shouted, jerking the gearshift into park and then reaching for my hand.

“I’m fine, but I don’t think our tire is!” I glanced out the side mirror to see pieces of rubber blowing across barren clay.

With wobbly legs, we climbed out of our “home away from home” for a closer inspection.

“What do we do now? It’s been hours since we’ve seen a station, let alone a single soul on this lonely highway!”

Silently, John retrieved his cell phone from a trouser pocket. After several futile attempts to get a signal, he snapped his phone shut.

“We need to ask God to send highway angels to rescue us,” I murmured.

I took John’s hand in mine as we made our way back inside the motor coach in search of the cooler. After several long chugs of water we bowed our heads, asking God for help. I kept my eyes tightly closed, pressing the cold water bottle against my forehead.

Suddenly, I felt John’s finger poking me in the ribs. “Take a look behind us…”

The vision of a tow truck pulling up behind us seemed too impossible.

“Need any help?” the tall driver shouted, approaching the driver’s side.

“We sure do! Do you have any idea where we can find a tire for this thing?” John asked.

“Doubt if we have the right size at the station for a motor coach this big, but I seem to remember a motor coach tire or two lying around. I’m on my way to answer an emergency call though. If you folks can hang on, I promise to return as soon as I help the family on up the road a piece.”

“Please don’t forget us!” I cried, as John waved the driver on his way.

We did our best to remain calm by planning the following day’s itinerary.

An hour later we spotted the same tow truck barreling in our direction. The vehicle had barely come to a complete stop when the driver hopped out like a rabbit. He grinned from ear to ear. “Sorry it took so long. I went back to the station to see about your tire. You aren’t going to believe this… we had one single motor coach tire left at the station. Follow me!”

Reaching into the bed of the truck, he hoisted a huge tire into the air. It bounced to the dusty ground with a thud.

“It can’t be!” John cried, recognizing the exact size tire needed. Slowly, the two men maneuvered the huge tire to the rear of the motor coach. In no time at all they managed to change it.

“There are no words to express our appreciation,” we said in unison. The driver gave us a wave before disappearing in a cloud of dust.

Eventually we discovered a nearby campground. After a good night’s rest, we awakened to sunshine and the smell of bacon and eggs from a nearby campfire. Over coffee, we rehashed the previous day’s miracle.

“You know, I’d really like to find that tow truck driver’s station and speak to his superior. He needs to be commended, as well as rewarded for his kind deed.”

John agreed, and we quickly gathered together the remnants from breakfast.

Soon we were on the road again, making our way in the direction the driver had said the station was.

We’d driven an entire hour when John slowly shook his head.

“I just don’t understand it. We’ve come too far and there’s not a single station in sight. How could that be?” He pulled the motor coach off the road.

I reached out, taking my husband’s hands in mine. Together we bowed our heads in prayer. Only this time, we prayed in silence.

No words seemed necessary. The angels had already spoken, loud and clear.

~Mary Z. Whitney

You are currently enjoying a preview of this book.

Sign up here to get a Chicken Soup for the Soul story emailed to you every day for free!

Please note: Our premium story access has been discontinued (see more info).

view counter

More stories from our partners