One March morning, I was aroused from a very sound sleep by a continuous knocking on my front door. As I scattered my clothing across the bed, I found an appropriate robe to answer the door in. Whomever it was would just not go away. I was miffed as I stumbled to answer the seemingly urgent knock. As I peeked around the chain through the partially open door, there stood what looked to be a 1920’s kamikaze pilot … standing there in the blustering wind. He wore an old leather aviator’s hat that dropped down below his ears. The strap under his chin was broken and it blew in the wind.
I stood back behind the door, and I wondered why I hadn’ t closed the door straight away. Something held my attention. I took another peek. He was tall and skinny, and his clothes were tattered. On his feet he wore a pair of old, rugged, high-top army boots.
As I tried backing out of communicating with him, I kept hearing my wind chimes blowing and tinkling from my back deck, and also some that sounded even closer. I looked again at the tall gentleman, and there in his hand was a rusty hanger with the most beautiful crystal wind chimes that I had ever seen, or heard, in my life.
You have to understand, I collect wind chimes, and these chimes were so magnificent, I couldn’t resist holding the door wide open to ask this gentleman what he was here for.
“The chimes, Ma’am,” he said. “I’m selling the chimes.”
“How much?” I hurried him on.
“Twenty dollars.” he said.
I wanted to buy the wind chimes, however, my husband had left on some quick errands and I didn’t have any cash with me. I tried to stall him by keeping a small conversation going.
“Where did you get such beautiful chimes? The sound is heavenly.”
He just smiled at me. “They are a gift,” he said. He spoke in a very low tone and the words sounded foreign. Just as I asked him to speak up I heard what sounded like a choir singing. It sounded very close by, but I couldn’t see anyone around. “Do you hear that?” I asked the man. “Yes,” he said calmly, “Those are my angels.”
He was speaking louder now as I gazed beyond him, to my front yard. Behind him I could barely see a white mist … standing in the midst of it, was what looked to be a choir of the most beautiful, angelic looking figures with wings, feathers, and all.
I asked, “You know there are angels behind you?”
“Yes,” he said, repeating himself. “They go everywhere with me. Don’t worry.”
I wondered if he could come back later when I was able to purchase the chimes. He said he was only allowed to come once but before he left he said, “I have to tell you, please try to remember — when you hear the wind chimes, it means the Angels are with you.” He walked away from me with a sideways step, and turned to the east as I closed my front door.
I sat down on my couch bewildered, pondering what had just happened. Feeling a sudden sense of urgency, and fortunately more awake, I ran back out to catch him. He was nowhere in sight.
In less than an hour, a storm rolled in and the trees in the back started to bend. The kids and I were playing cards in front of the window, my husband was called into work. Suddenly the leaves and branches from our largest tree, hit the window, startling all of us. Above all the commotion, I could hear the wind chimes blowing in the wind, and I remembered my stranger’s reminder. I could hear the choir of Angels singing again. Something came over me that told me to get the kids under my husbands sturdy oak desk in the corner of his office.
Just as I obeyed my intuition, we heard a loud crash and a windy roar … one of our trees crashed through the ceiling and onto the bottom floor in the exact spot we had just been playing cards. “Don’t worry,” I recalled what my angelic friend had said to me as he left abruptly.
Looking back on that day, I can only say that Angels are truly amongst us. They come in many forms. Listen to them closely. They are here to offer guidance and protection. We are all born with one Angel appointed just to us … mine might just be a pilot who sells wind chimes door-to-door.