Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: ANGELS WATCHING OVER ME (donít write about the song) (06/04/15)
- TITLE: Peugeot, Zacky and me, Requesting an Angel Please . . .
By Judith Gayle Smith
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Peugeot - an unlikely name for a most unlikely house pet - was alternately nervous and excessively eager. The only way to keep him in the back of the wagon was to toss lemon drops to the rear. He loved lemon drops. He swallowed them whole. It was becoming an expensive sweet tooth.
An eventful journey indeed - especially in the dark of night. Restricted to daytime driving due to uncooperative eyes, I was risking life and limb to follow my fellow, who was manipulating our twenty-four foot church bus, loaded with almost all our non-animal possessions to a brave new world, far from the wilds of Northern California.
Our journey took us from San Bernardino to Portland, Oregon. We were running a foster care for abused teenage girls. We left when the youngest gal furiously came after me with a serrated bread knife (the sharp knives were kept in a locked drawer) and the oldest gal frantically tore apart our garage in grief over our leave-taking. After that, she let the air out of the tires of our bus. It was an extremely difficult decision, and we may well have stayed, but friends called us up to Portland to serve in a wonderful little church they discovered.
Ever mindful of my inability to focus clearly, I was to follow my hubby faithfully - not letting any cars come between us. Stay focused and awake. I wish he had chained my little Datsun to the back of the bus. Because
I lost him. Yup. Lost a twenty-four foot grey and white converted school/church bus, painted interior depicting Denver, Colorado - birthplace of my handsome husband.
It was horrible. Black as night - no bus in sight. Did I lose it while laughing and tossing lemon drops to Peugeot? I remembered my fella telling me that if I did lose him, to take the first off-ramp from the freeway, and wait for him there. And so, in a matter of clarity amidst my panic - I did take the first exit. How would he find me? Would he even know I was lost? Before cell phones . . .
Dead end. Black smothering darkness. Too frightened to pray. And then a big rig - a huge eighteen-wheeler truck pulled up alongside me. I think I finally started praying. My dad was a line driver and I knew some truckers were good guys. Peugeot became all growls and teeth-baring grimaces and snarls. Zacky was scared quiet. I rolled all my windows up.
A knock on the window unfroze me. A friendly middle-aged man smiled gently - and Peugeot threatened death and destruction. Imagine great teeth slashing against glass, and unearthly sounds echoing in the cavern of the car.
I felt no threat, but I burst into tears. The trucker made it clear that he was led to help me. I, unbelievably - believed him. He asked me to follow him into the town I couldn't see in the darkness. Timidly, I tiptoed the car behind him until he pulled into the bright lights of a coffee shop. He introduced me to the motherly manager, instructing her to ply me with lots of coffee and food I couldn't eat. I brought Zacky in his cage inside, and, per the trucker's admonition, tied Peugeot to the bumper of the car to protect what little worth I had inside. He was eagerly over-protective, bless him.
The kind trucker got on his CB and contacted truckers up and down the freeway. It felt like God was creating a loving bubble, enclosing us in His love. These two unusual angels then contacted the highway patrol who found my love and brought him to me in the morning. We were reunited and shared a sumptuous breakfast "on the house." My tears became truly tears of joy.
Thank You, Father - for gracing us new believers with Your caring servants who took what could have been a frightening trip into a trip graced by You.
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