The art of entertaining angelsPosted: 10.01.09 Sometimes when I struggle with a decision, it ends up delivering immeasurable blessings in my life and the lives of others. Like the Saturday night I felt a burning desire to get a haircut. Saturdays are typically ‘date night’ for my husband and me, and I would much rather have been sitting down to a steak dinner than plopping into a salon chair. I couldn’t understand my inner urgency. “They’re probably closed,” I murmured, as I dialed the salon. The voice at the other end of the line said they could take me if I came right away. At the same time, a hefty woman, with unkempt, dark curly hair, stepped outside, looked to the heavens and heaved a great sigh. She began shifting one foot in front of the other, laboring her way past sandwich shops, clothing stores and restaurants. Cars, trucks and buses dashed by her, oblivious to the lone, lumbering figure. When she finally stopped to rest at a roadside bench, shoppers zipped by without a smile or kind word. Odd, what she needed the most surrounded her, but she had no way to get it. She was hungry, but she had no food. There was a grocery store, but she had no money. She’d walked a long way from home, and she didn’t have the strength to return. Finally, dejected and weary, she placed her head in her hands and surrendered to the tears. “Please Jesus,” she prayed, “Please send someone to help me.” I pulled my van alongside the curb, threw the gearshift in park, jumped out and raced inside the salon. In passing, I spotted the woman sitting on the bench, but I dismissed her. My stylist scrubbed my hair and clipped the strands, rattling incessantly about the movie she saw last week. When I stepped outside again, the first brushes of nighttime blanketed the street. I slipped my keys from my pocket and stepped off the curb when someone approached. “Excuse me, ma’am,” she said, stepping into the light. “Can you help me?” For a moment I bristled, but something reassured me. “What do you need,” I asked the hefty woman, whose shabby, dark curly hair encircled her face. “I don’t have any food,” she said. As she explained her plight, I knew I could help. “Hop in the car,” I said. “We can go to the grocery store across the street.” “I knew God would send someone to help me,” she said, climbing into my van. “And when I saw you walking into the hair–cutting place, I knew you were my angel.” She told me she became a Christian as a teen, and God always met her needs in desperate situations, like this one. She admitted she didn’t really know where she was going when she set out on her walk that evening, and I confessed the salon wasn’t my normal Saturday night stop. As our stories unraveled, a deep connection formed. In that exchange, she delivered an invaluable lesson. Although I doubt I’ll ever see her again, I’ll forever remember our encounter, her faith, and the wonder of a God who brought us together. “Continue to be kind to strangers, for some who have done this have entertained angels without even knowing it” (Heb 13:2). ENDNOTE: Tomaselli is a freelance writer who lives in Altamonte Springs.
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