Excerpt from

  What Children Tell Me About Angels

 
Let's Start Right Here

Does the Lord have an entire retinue of angels who work especially with children? Most parents, grandparents, and teachers wouldn't find this hard to believe. As children think their pensive thoughts about earth, heaven and angels, where do these thoughts originate? Are they from a source we've lost in our adulthood?  If we must say "Yes" to this question, then how's this for an addition to our prayer life?

Lord, thank you for the fresh
breezes from children
blessing the barren places of our
so-called "grown-upness."

The Bible tells us we "are a little lower than the angels" (Hebrews 2:7). Yet the same Bible makes it clear that human beings can be God's traffic ways. And that includes children of any age in many places. I know because I'm often invited to all kinds of interface with the young. From coast to coast I've interviewed Sunday school classes, youth clubs, Christian schools and secular. Everywhere, the welcome rug is out. Come, Grandpa, let's probe the angel theme together. Enthusiasm plus. Wisdom plus.
     Then there are two other sources opening windows through windows through which I see more angels doing their thing. One source is the flood of letters coming as a response to my simple request in Brush of an Angel's Wing. From places near and far numerous correspondents go back in their personal history to give me their input - accounts of amazing experiences from their childhood. Angel touches in their childhood.
     Yet that's not all. From deep inside me many almost forgotten memories have surfaced, witnessing to the reality of angels. I hope as you near the age of eighty this wonderful thing will happen to you as it has to me - you will be able to remember far far back in your own days gone by. Long forgotten events, here they come. The time your phone rang and it changed your life. A stranger knocked at your door with that happy surprise. From out of nowhere came welcome positives, downers that later turned to uppers, or mysteries still unsolved.
     Don't hurry it. The years are going to pass anyway, but one day you will be able to say with me this credo from Brush of An Angel's Wing.

I believe in a loving God
whose angels are never far away.
Therefore, even when things seem to the contrary
I believe that his universe and my life in it
are unfolding as they should
and everything is on schedule.

  
Meet Jarrett, My Grandson and Child Consultant

Is there any grandfather who doesn't think his grandchildren are the smartest ever?
     Not this one!
     Jarrett is eight. He is good-looking, full of fun, accommodating, and an avid reader. He's also a champion gymnast. When I began What Children Tell Me About Angels, it was obvious I'd soon need special help.
     So, throughout this book, I will share with you the cool wisdom of my favorite (and only) grandson. My exchanges with Jarrett may be found in the sections of this book called "Except Ye Become as Little Children...."  After reading Jarrett's comments, my editor agreed that this eight-year-old has a special handle on the world of angels.
     I know that you will think so, too.

How to Use This Book

Four boys equal eight eyes, don't they? How could eight eyes see the same sign where there wasn't any sign? And could a swimming pool ball get up by itself and walk? How could it move to the exact spot where a tiny tot would fall? How could the lives of two championship basketball players be united one day in the heart of a little girl? And out there on a remote field, how could two men in white lift a tractor and go away with no comment?
     Where do such dashes of wonder originate? Whose are these unseen hands? What else could it be but angels?
 

That Sign DID Read
"Toad Road"

Catfish Reed was his name. He was not exactly every parent's idea of the perfect river buddy for their junior-high son. Catfish was tall.   He was thin.  He didn't have a regular job. He was also missing one front tooth. This meant he wasn't exactly tidy. Why? Because Catfish chewed tobacco, spitting often, and his aim was undependable.
     For all these reasons the adult world did not care much for Catfish. But to his river buddies, he was a hero. He knew where the catfish were, and he told us. That made a big difference. We spent much time at the river and we were big on catfish cookouts.
     We also liked to win rowboat races. Every year on our Cedar River there were many races. Up river, down river, across river, winning for us was a cinch. Why?   Because Catfish knew where the rocks were and he would chart our course to perfection. Let others smash up, slow up, give up. Not us. With Catfish on shore waving us here, there, off to the right, off to the left, no question. Give us the trophy and you go for second.
     Then, one summer morning Catfish wasn't there. Which, for him, was a never-never.  A.M., P.M., any time, any day, the river and Catfish flowed together. So up and down river we went, asking, "Has anyone seen Catfish?"
     "Nope. Ain't seen him no where. Mighta' died. We all gonna go sometime, ya know"
 So into the pickup we piled ourselves and off we started. None of us had ever been to his home. All we knew was that he had said he lived on "Toad Road. Way back toward the swamp. Mile maybe."
     Off the main river road there were countless little roads, lanes, paths taking off to who knew where. One of these had to be "Toad Road," but which one? Our clue was one other thing Catfish once told us: "'bout one car wide."
     So off we went up and down looking for "Toad Road" one car wide. We found too many lanes matching that description. But if our buddy needed us, we must find him.
     Whatever could we do?
     Now I am about to tell you something you will hardly believe. But please don't go away. On one of those many trips up and down the river road with its numerous cut-offs, a miracle happened.
     Suddenly out of nowhere we spotted a sign, a weatherbeaten old board with the words, "Toad Road." The two in front spied it first. Peeling white letters on an old brown board. Then the two of us in back saw it, too. Clear.
    You will know we wasted no time getting to that shack Catfish called home. There we found him sick, very sick. Quickly we did what you'd have done. Putting a worn old mattress and some blankets our pickup, off we went to the hospital.
     "Just in time, boys,"  the doctor said. "This man is in a bad way."
    From that moment on it was the best of attention for Catfish. Reason? Good little hospital and, as a side factor, the doctor's son had grown up on our river. Fact is, his was the frumpy old pickup we'd used to look for our hero.
     Gradually Catfish recovered. He returned to his tobacco-chewing self. And we were, to borrow a phrase from Scripture, "filled with joy and gladness."
     Then one day when we were hanging around his hospital room we told him about our hunt for "Toad Road."
    "Almost missed that sign, Catfish. Ought to get you a new sign."
     "The sign you got is getting old. Barely read the letters."
     "What sign you talkin''bout? They ain't no sign there. Never has been. Never." 
     We went back to get it to show Catfish. But he was right. No 'Toad Road" sign.
     Hardly a day of his recovery went on when we would not harangue loud and long about that sign.
    "Couldn't have been."
     "Oh, yes, it was."
     "You guys been seein' things."
     "Honest, Catfish, it was there. I saw it with my own two eyes. All four of us saw it. No way we could miss it. 'Toad Road."'
     "Well, I'm tellin' you somethin', men. (Another reason we liked hirn--sometimes he called us "men.") That name 'Toad Road' was a name I give it. Sort of a joke, you know? That road's so hidden it don't have a real name." 

"Except Ye Become as Little Children"

Grandpa: "What do you think happened, Jarrett? All four of us saw the sign. "When we looked for it again, where did it go?'

Jarrett: "That's easy, Grandpa. An angel came and held up the sign so you would know this was Toad Road. Then the angel went back to heaven with the sign."

Grandpa: "But, Jarrett, why didn't we see the angel?"

Jarrett: "Grandpa you weren't LOOKING for an angel."

Question for pondering:
Would we see more angels
if we were looking
for them more?
 

     The drop was sixteen feet from the upstairs porch to the game room basement door.  And that is some fall for a twenty-seven-month-old boy.  But that's how far he fell - from the upstairs porch to a solid cement platform at the game room entrance.
     His name was Brandon, which is somewhat chic for a boy into everything like he was.
     His parents were taking their Sunday afternoon nap in the upstairs bedroom.  Brandon was napping in his crib at the foot of their bed.  But Brandon woke early.  What a good time to explore the upstairs bedroom porch.  Nice porch.  Nice flowers.  Nice view.  Nice for a twenty-seven-month-old to be feeling so high up.
     Being Brandon, he explored the porch thoroughly.  He plucked some of his mother's flowers and examined the cast-iron fence.  He viewed the yard through its bars.  But wouldn't his world look even more interesting if he could sit on the fence top and ponder it from there?
     So, being Brandon, he climbed to the top.  Now swing the feet, view the view, wave to anyone needing a wave.
     This fun finished, Brandon asked himself, "How do I get down from here?  Think.  Turn around, Brandon, very slowly.  Put your feet over the other side and very, very slowly go back the way you came."
     Only, in turning around, his foot slipped and suddenly he was going down another way.  Straight down.  Down to the concrete below.
     Boom, he landed.  Only, praises be, not on the cement landing, but straight in the middle of the swimming pool ball.  Soft, bouncy, sort of fun really.
    From tht day on, for a long time there was almost no other conversation around the family table than this: Who moved the swimming pool ball?  Who put it right there in the very sport where Brandon would fall?  Nobody ever carried that ball anywhere.  Too big and awkward.  The older kids with their friends wouldn't have moved it.  Too lazy.  Mother didn't move it.  Dad didn't.  Neighbors didn't.  So who moved it?
     All over town, the club, bridge meetings, office coffee breaks.  Everywhere the same question, same answer.  Nobody had the faintest idea.  Nobody except Brandon's father.  Being the pastor of a fast-growing congregation, he preached some sermons on "Miracles of the Bible."  Great series, real provocative, but as the himself said, "Surprising how many miracles are shrouded in permanent mystery.  Let's sing again the chorus from that old favorite, 'Angels Watching over Me.'"

"Except Ye Become as Little Children"

Grandpa:" Do you think the angel saw the little boy fall and then moved it?"

Jarrett: "Sure."

Grandpa: "But how could he move it that fast if it was all that heavy?"

Jarrett: "Grandpa, don't you know angels are like Superman?  They can lift anything.  They can move faster than the speed of light." 

Grandpa: "Well, then, when the angel saw the boy sitting on the rail, why didn't he pick him up and put him where he belonged?  Wouldn't that make more sense?"

Jarrett: "No, he had to teach the parents a lesson."

Grandpa: "A lesson?  What lesson?"

Jarrett: "The lesson is that parents shouldn't keep dangerous doors unlocked when they have little boys."

The Bible says,
"Out of the mouths
of babes..."
Matthew 21:16

My Mother Married the Dentist

     My mother and I moved to this big city over two years ago when my father died.  My grandparents live here and they wanted us to be near them.  Since my mother is a nurse she can get a job almost anywhere.
     Well, I got this awful toothache before we found a dentist here, so my mother looked up "dentist" in the yellow pages.  She ran her finger down the list until she came to a Dr. Brown.  This was the same last name as our best friends back home.  So we went to him and he was nice.  He gave me some stuff to make my tooth quit hurting.  Then he fixed it so it wouldn't hurt anymore.
     While he was fixing my tooth he asked about my name.  Some people think it is a funny name, with twelve letters and only three of them vowels.  I guess it is, but I have had it so long it doesn't sound strange to me.  Well, hardly anybody as ever heard of it but the dentist had.  He said he played basketball in high school with a boy who had that name.  Then he asked my father's name.  Archie was my father's name and he played basketball, too.  I told him a picture of Dad's team hangs in our hall.  Before he died my father loved to tell about being conference champions.  I missed my dad a lot.  Dr. Brown told me he knew how we must have felt when dad died because his wife died last year.
     Then Dr. Brown got a curious look on his face, and he asked me my mother's first name.  I told him, "Louise."  Right then he stopped what he was doing and asked me if my father had red hair and my mother had blond.  I nodded.  He said my mother was two grades behind my dad and him  They had all gone to high school together.  He didn't know her very well because she was as younger, but he heard she was a very nice girl.  I told him she was still nice, usually.  So he asked if it would be OK if he called.  I said, "Yes," and he did that very night.  Well, they talked a long time and the next night they went out to dinner together.  That was quite a while ago and now they are married.  I have heard that sometimes step-parents and step-children don't get along but we sure do because he likes me and I like him, most of the time.
     Sometimes at dinner we talk about how we became a family.  I love it when we do that.  What if I had gone to some other dentist?  Or what if I never had the toothache at all?  And what if our favorite friends back home had not been named Brown?
     If you could see my mother and new father holding hands in church I know you would feel like the three of us do.  All of us believe the only way it could happen was for God to think it up.  My grandparents think so, too.  It could never have been an accident.
     My mother says an angel guided her hand that day she was looking up dentists in the phone book.
     I hope an angel does something as wonderful as that for you sometime.
     I forgot to tell you another thing my stepfather said that shows how nice he is.  He said if I ever get a toothache again, he would fix it and not ever charge us anything.

Hannah