Angels Found in the Tiniest of Creatures
by Jackie Haugh
In 1990, I was the mother of four very active children under the age of eight. My three daughters were old enough to know their boundaries, but not my two-year-old son.
One day, while I was busy cleaning the house, thinking all was well and safe with my babies, I heard the door bell ring. Opening the front door, I found a large, burly construction worker holding my little boy’s hand. Our neighbor down the street was in the middle of massive remodel and everyday Timmy would stare out the window and the watch the trucks go by.
“Lady, I think he belongs to you,” the gentleman said. “I can tell you have a bunch of kids by the balls scattered all over the lawn.”
Shocked that Timmy had escaped, and embarrassed that this man might think I was a delinquent mother, I wondered how my child got out. Then I looked at the open living room window.
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed. “He must have crawled out. He’s never done that before.”
Visions of my little boy with his long blonde curls fluttering in the wind, barefoot and only a tee shirt and diaper on, standing in the middle of the street horrified me.
“I have to tell you, lady. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” the worker continued. “Your little dog here never left his side. When your son got too close to the cement mixer, she pulled on his diaper holding him back.”
“She must have jumped out the window after him,” I said amazed.
Sitting behind my precious little boy was our red haired cocker spaniel wagging her tail, head cocked to the right. I always knew she was special, but in that moment I was sure she was an angel sent by God to protect my baby boy.
Angels come to us daily in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes it’s in the form of another human being. Often it’s in the whisper of the wind softly telling us what direction to take our lives. They can also be found in our family pets. God gifts them with the ability for unconditional love, a gentle spirit they long to share, and the instinct to protect their human litter from bodily harm.
That sweet little dog is now gone and replaced with a completely different breed and temperament. And like Mandy, Madison hovers. In the quiet moments of the day, when the world is at peace, I find her taking her job seriously, lying next to my 95 year old father guarding him, listening to the soft rhythmic sound of his breath, ready to lick his hand and keep him safe when he takes his final journal home.
Jackie Haugh is the author of MY LIFE IN A TUTU