Angels Among Us

I learned about angels years ago while traveling to an ashram in upstate New York. I was alone and had way too much luggage for the 2-week trip. At the time, "packing light" meant packing only one complete outfit per day. I had been planning my two-week adventure for months. It was to be a spiritual journey (of sorts, since I also planned to visit with family). I had decided to fly into New York, visit with family in Rhode Island and New Jersey, and spend 6 meditative days at the ashram, taking the Greyhound Bus to each destination. What I discovered, as I struggled with my luggage at Port Authority and throughout the trip, was that this was a flawed plan. It was about 20 degrees outside, where, incidentally, I was going to have to spend a great deal of time, and my 14 outfits were mostly sweaters. Additionally, it was unlikely I would encounter other "seekers" during my multiple bus transfers and stops with which to converse.

I had never been to Port Authority. Those of you who have know this is terrain best negotiated with eyes widely peeled. So, it was in confusion and with bewilderment, late for the next bus to South Fallsburg, that I put my luggage down in the center of Mayhem, New York City, and started to panic and, OK, cry. Too many people in too much of a hurry. Directions not intuitive. Late. Where is the bathroom and how do I use it with all this luggage? Clearly, in this frantic moment, I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings but was focusing (and intensifying) my frustration and anxiety. A light touch on the arm was the "snap-out-of-it" moment that initiated a lasting change in the way I view the world.

My sense of it now is that a person had been standing beside me for at least a moment before he actually touched me. He was African American, in his mid-40s (I guessed), and seemingly homeless. I could smell on him perhaps several days of living in survival mode--his clothes were extremely dirty, as were his hands and face. He still had a few front teeth, which were exposed by a warm, easy grin that made his eyes narrow. My first impulse was genuine (to smile back), but my reaction was not, informed by cautionary tales and travel tips. I moved back, regained my composure and personal space, and tried to attach a look to my face that conveyed well traveled savoir faire.

"Yes?" I said, coolly.

"I....I was wondering if you needed any help," he mumbled.

"No," I lied quickly, wishing I knew kung fu. He turned to walk away. I watched the back of his thin frame for a minute and then went back into rapid-mind-twirl mode. I hope I didn't hurt his feelings. I wonder if he thought I was afraid of him. I WAS afraid of him, what did he expect, rolling up on me like that?

And then he was back.

He picked up my luggage--large, stuffed garment bag under one arm; backpack with all kinds of books and journals over his shoulder; large roller board pulled with the other arm (I had my purse and camera bag)--and started walking, before I could say a word. I followed, desperately trying to keep up with his fast pace. I admit to having all kinds of thoughts I won't share here, but one involved my family seeing my face on the 11:00 news.

We walked for what seemed like several minutes, through crowds of rushing people. Twice, I lost sight of him for a few scary seconds. He finally stopped in a place where many departing buses were parked. My heart was beating wildly and I was out of breath. Beads of sweat had formed on his brow and had begun to drip.

"Where you going?" he asked sweetly.

And then I got it.

He needed money. Of course, what was I thinking? I had to laugh at myself for being so naive. I had heard of the people who start to wipe the windshield of your car before you can stop them and then ask for payment for said service. I told him the name of the bus I needed to take, and we walked a bit further down the platform until he found it. He gently placed my luggage beside the open luggage space. I had about 8 minutes to spare to catch this bus, the last of the night.

"I really appreciate this," I said, relieved and happy as I turned away to quickly but safely look into my purse. I located the five dollar bill I had stashed in a secret compartment and took it out, carefully closing my purse. I prepared to extend my hand to him with the money and thought about what I might say to express my gratitude.

"Thank you so mmm..." was all I could manage to get out. He was gone. I turned in every direction to see if I could see him, to see if perhaps he had started to help the bus driver load my luggage onto the bus. There was no sight of him anywhere that I could see.

And then I really got it.

Sometimes, angels show up just in time to help, even when you don't know you need it.