“We should pray to the angels, for they are given to us as guardians.”

– St. Ambrose

 

The cart was no where to be found, JayJay was whining her little head off, and the f-bomb had just erupted from my mouth.

I steered quickly to the back of the parking lot, then let out the dogs to do their thing.

I needed to cool down and God must have known it, because no sooner than I stepped outdoors, the frigid temps shot my mind back in place.

“I’m sorry I said a bad word,” I said as soon as I returned to the driver’s seat. I then pulled my vehicle up so it was just outside of the entrance.

I began taking long deep breaths then asked Kiddo to join me in asking the angels for help.

“Dear angels, we need your help. Please help us find the wallet.”

Intuition guided me to use my cell phone and call the store to find out if anyone had turned in a wallet within the past hour.

“Yes, we have it,” the service rep said, “We’ve just been waiting for you.”

“Praise God!” I said as I hung up.

I bundled up Kiddo once again, this time nearly skipping into the store.

Once the back office received my proof of address, my wallet was safely returned.

“Do you happen to know who turned it in?” I asked.

Management didn’t really know. We then inquired with the service counter.

“The cart guy,” answered the service rep.

“Well, please tell him thank you,” I said, being sure management heard me as well.

As Kiddo and I proceeded to leave, we saw “cart guy” near the entrance of the store. Though his face was shielded behind cold weather gear, his eyes were warm and sincere.

“Thank you for returning my wallet,” I said, unzipping the main pocket and reaching for some cash. “I’d like to thank you for doing that.”

The man held up his hands and said no. He informed me that taking rewards is against store policy, and he insisted he was just doing his job.

“Well then please let me thank you with my words,” I said. “I am so very grateful to you.” My eyes began pooling with appreciative tears. “I just took in this Kiddo into foster care recently and ever since my head hasn’t been on straight.”

The man blessed me and thanked me for doing such great work.

Hearing this was very unexpected, yet it felt really good.

He then shared that he had seen the cart way off to the side but something told him to go get it.

“It was so cold out, I ignored it at first,” he said, “but something kept telling me I better go and get it”

I smiled big and said, “That ‘something’ was your angels.”

The man’s kind eyes lit up. He knowingly nodded.

Thank you angels! Thank You cart guy!
Thank You God!

Thank you angels! Thank You cart guy!
Thank You God!

Kiddo and I sang these words in the form of a tune all the way back to the mall.

ete

 

(Note: For confidentiality reasons, “Kiddo” and “them” refers to the child in our foster care at the time of this post.)

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