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On the verge of suicide, a woman is given an angelic blessing and the courage to live.
We are each of us angels with only one wing. And we can only fly embracing each other.
–Luciano DeChescenzo
It was a quiet Sunday morning at Our Lady of Consolation Catholic Church in Callahan, Florida. No more than eighty people were attending Mass, but the church was so tiny that most of the pews were filled. To Jackie Hall, everything seemed normal as she gazed around the sunny space. Who among her neighbors here would have guessed that, despite Jackie's calm exterior, her mind and heart were in torment? Jackie was thinking seriously of committing suicide.
It is difficult, perhaps, for those who have never been clinically depressed to understand what a tremendous toll this illness takes on a person's mind and soul. Even people with strong spiritual faith can succumb to unbelievable feelings of sadness and, often, the unreasonable fear that depression and chronic pain create. Jackie had suffered from back problems for many years as a result of a car accident. She had recently given up a retail job she enjoyed in order to have fusion surgery. Her rehabilitation had been long and arduous, but she was still not well enough to go back to work or even to resume normal living. "I felt useless," she says. Her husband and children were at a loss to help her change from a morose and withdrawn woman back into the gracious, outgoing person they remembered. No one realized just how dark Jackie's thoughts had become recently.
For the previous few days, Jackie had been "getting ready," packing up family photos and organizing records, giving away certain possessions—all actions that are symptomatic of an impending suicide. On Sunday, she had awakened feeling especially fragile. Perhaps Mass would be her last outing. How she longed to feel God's love for her, his support! Even though she had often prayed to be delivered from despair, the answers had not come. Now the emotional pain was closing in on her. She could bear it no longer, and there seemed no other way out.
"When we arrived at church, I knelt and prayed with all my heart. I told God how much I loved him and begged him to guard me against whatever was happening to me." She needed a sign, just a little hint of reassurance or comfort. Once again, God seemed silent.
Several pews back and across the aisle, Judy Davies also knelt in prayer. She usually attended Sunday Mass at another church, the parish at which her son went to grade school, but today she had dropped into Our Lady of Consolation. Because the parish was so small, she usually knew everyone there.
However, this morning Judy noticed a woman just in front of her. She didn't know her, but as Mass began, something about the woman caught Judy's attention. What was it? The woman seemed sad, but she wasn't behaving unusually, just kneeling and praying. "I sensed a presence there. It's hard to describe, but the longer I looked, the more I seemed to see light around her, like an aura." The cloudlike glow was particularly strong behind the woman, as if some kind of force was protecting her. But from what? There was no danger in this peaceful church. Judy was even more astonished when she realized that no one else was reacting to this strange light. Was she the only one who could see it?
"I tried to keep my thoughts on the Gospel and the homily, but my eyes kept drifting to her, to see if the aura was still there. It was."
By the time Mass ended, the apparition had faded. Judy was in a quandary. Should she stop the woman and tell her about it? Things like this are always hard to do," Judy says. "You don't want others to think you're strange. But I felt that I had to tell her." Judy followed the woman out and tapped her on the shoulder. When the woman turned, Judy plunged into her message.
"You are truly blessed," she said earnestly. "I saw a glow all around you during Mass. It looked like an angel was looking over your shoulder, protecting you. I just had to tell you!"
An angel! Jackie was almost speechless as she stared at the woman. "Well, thank you," she murmured politely and watched as Judy turned away. But her thoughts were racing. An angel, watching over her, caring for her? Could this be the sign she had asked God to send? Suddenly, she felt an enormous weight begin to lift and a small stirring of hope. Tears filled her eyes. She turned to her husband. "I need help. I want to live."
Jackie's life changed quickly. She found an effective medication and began to feel more like herself. One day at a meeting, she heard herself volunteering to visit a cancer patient in her parish, something unlike any activity she had ever participated in. It was the start of what would become a visitor program, ministering to the sick and the shut-ins in the neighborhood. The program became extremely popular, and after some consideration, Jackie agreed to become its director. Gradually, she came to understand that her own suffering had prepared her for this kind of ministry; in God's eyes, there had been a purpose for it all. She had developed a wellspring of patience and tenderness for others in need, and she was constantly amazed and grateful when her work bore fruit.
Four or five years passed. Jackie improved dramatically, became a grandmother several times, and considered each day a blessing. There was just one mystery left: who was the woman who had brought her the reassuring news that critical morning in church? And would she even recognize her if they were to meet again? Jackie longed to thank her, to ask how she could have known....
One evening, Jackie attended a parish meeting, and a visitor asked the group a question about the Catholic church's teaching on angels. The host answered the question, and then Jackie spoke up. "I have an angel story. In fact, I think an angel saved my life!" As the audience sat transfixed, Jackie described her illness and that desperate morning when she almost gave up. "I haven't seen that woman since, even though our parish is small. I sometimes wonder if she was an angel in disguise."
From the back of the room, a woman spoke into the silence. "No," she said hesitantly, "I think it was me!"
Jackie gasped as Judy stood up. Both recognized each other and then embraced as the rest of the group wiped away tears. How had they failed to become acquainted during the last several years? Neither had an answer. God's timing is perfect, and he had started a chain reaction of faith that became an example to the entire parish.
Jackie and Judy have remained in touch and see each other every Sunday morning. "Our eyes often meet during Mass, and we share a smile from across the church," Judy says. She is enormously grateful that she took a risk and reached out to Jackie on that important morning. "Call it instinct, intuition, or a sign from God, but if someone feels the presence of the Lord—through his angel messengers-that person should share it."
By Joan Wester Anderson
Marilyn L. Ali
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