All the friends had left. The doctor was gone. There was only Danny and I left in the hospital room. I pulled a chair up close to the side of his bed so that I could hold the hand that did not have tubes in it.
I was scared. I was more scared than I had ever been in my life.
I bowed my head to pray and all I could say was, "Not this man. Not this man. Not this man." Over and over. I began to rock slowly back and forth, back and forth. "Not this man. Not this man. Not this man."
Then I felt a light touch on my shoulder. A cleaning lady had come, unnoticed by me, into the room. She leaned close to me and whispered in halting English, "God bless you." And then she left
I felt some of the load lift off my shoulders.
I believe she was an "angel unawares" sent to comfort me in my time of great need. And she did.
|All angels don't have wings. Some have mops.|
POSTSCRIPT: Don't worry to much about Danny Dearest. He recovered completely. So completely, in fact, that in a couple of weeks he will compete in his third Tour de Tucson, a 111 mile bike race since his illness. God is good.