We often imagine angels as brilliant winged beings dwelling eons away in some remote Heaven. The way Cedric Red Feather explains it, we all have spirit guides or helpers situated just above our shoulders, ready and waiting to offer help and guidance; all we have to do is give them permission. In the evening, before I go to sleep, I ask angels to keep me safe. Ever since I began doing this, I have avoided bad dreams.

The most striking instance of their intervention came while I was practicing law for a defense firm in Pasadena. My tenure with that firm was, happily by choice, a short-lived one. I had come from a tough firm of defense litigators in Culver City, CA, so the performance expectations at this new firm were high. They entrusted me with a load of thick, complex cases; unfortunately, I was not magician enough to sort out their unwieldy files.

The commute alone was killer. The Pasadena freeway is riddled with eight lanes of vehicles plus merging lanes for on and off ramps. At rush hour, it’s a spinning carousel of cars with no room for error.

Returning from work one evening, I drove a rental car. I had earlier crashed my regular vehicle into a garage pillar trying to park during my brief stint with this firm. I presently found myself in the centermost lane of the 6 p.m. rush, when my little tin of a rental car ground to a halt. It just would not restart; I was cast into auto limbo with no way out.

Realizing the improbability of the situation, I resorted to the only open course — I capitulated. In one grand swoop, I opened the driver’s door, pushed down the lock button, and inadvertently dropped my keys on the seat. The second the door closed, I realized I had sealed my fate. I turned to face the oncoming packed lanes and, in a gesture of complete surrender, threw up my hands. I felt like a cartoon character in some unfortunate episode of The Flintstones. The irreversibility of my predicament gave me an adrenalin rush of bravado.

Suddenly, miraculously, traffic ground to halt. Within seconds, three men from different vehicles leaped to my aid. I blurted that I was locked out, and one man retorted he was an off-duty volunteer fireman with a tool in his car that would help. He returned with a long, thin, steely serrated blade that he wedged between the driver’s side window and door. With that tool, he popped up the old-fashioned button lock and opened the door. He jumped in, shifted into neutral and steered as the other two men pushed; a third soon brought up the rear. Vehicles yielded until they had successfully maneuvered my car to the shoulder. Yet another man diverted traffic and personally escorted me in a zigzag through the cars to my stalled vehicle and the cement shoulder’s questionable harbor.

I thanked and blessed them all profusely. One stayed behind to call and await the tow. I sat in my car, dazed. Not ten minutes later, I glanced up at the rear view mirror and saw the front end of a long bed vehicle pull up behind. Above the cab were displayed large upper and lower case letters that in a friendly type font proclaimed, “Jan’s Towing.” In those days, I went by “Jan” rather than “Janet.” Seeing my name was the consummate flourish in this dazzling montage of heavenly grace. I was overjoyed.

What had been a nightmare was transmuted into an angelic rescue. From the volunteer fireman, to the “good citizens” to the personalized tow service bearing my name — all were synchronically orchestrated for my highest good.

If I had doubted before, I knew then with certainty there are angels among us. Ordinary deeds are, through Divine timing, alchemically rendered extraordinary. If you have a wish to work with angels, don’t wait for a crisis to communicate with them. Pray and give them permission to enter your life. Humbly ask for wisdom and knowledge, and for good guidance. What these loving beings offer far surpasses our dreams and imaginings.

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Janet Michele Red Feather
Janet Michele Red Feather, J.D., M.A., is a ceremonial singer who has learned over 60 traditional songs in Mandan and Lakota and sings in nine different languages. Janet was a full-time defense litigator in California for nearly eight years. Her life changed significantly after she traveled to North Dakota in 1993 to fast and pray for a way of life. A regular columnist for The Edge, she has also appeared in Psychic Guidepost, FATE Magazine and Species Link. Her book, Song of the Wind (2014, Galde Press), dealt with her experiences as an empath, and her journey through Mandan spiritual culture. She is currently a full-time, tenured English faculty member at Normandale Community College, having taught Composition and Literature for a span of 20 years.

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