Cultura y Literatura
Angels on Earth magazine

Angels on Earth magazine September/October 2020

Experience the inspiring stories that fill each issue of Angels on Earth magazine, from people just like you, who have found their hope restored, faith strengthened and lives transformed through miraculous encounters with angels. Angels still visit us today to guide us, and give us reassuring evidence of God’s eternal love. Discover the angels in your own life with Angels on Earth!

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6 Números

en este número

2 min.
down to earth

SEPTEMBER HAS ALWAYS meant back to school, but as I write this we don’t know what that will look like. My daughter Evie’s last-minute high school graduation on the football field—her senior class divided into five ceremonies staggered throughout the hot day to allow for social distancing—was odd enough, the kids in caps and gowns and masks. We were lucky to be assigned the 8 p.m. slot under the stars. At home after, I read the book given to each graduate, Navigate Your Stars, by Jesmyn Ward, who’d become a favorite author of mine since Evie had introduced me to her. We passed Jesmyn’s novels back and forth, while Evie studied them for her AP Lit class. Jesmyn tackles themes of grit, adversity, racism and the powerful tug of family in the…

7 min.
from italy to new york

“DAD, WE WANT you to come home.” Even through the poor Skype connection I could see the tightness of Karin’s face, hear the stress in her voice. “I can’t do it, sweetheart. Everything’s closed. Flights are canceled. The whole country is shut down. Don’t worry. I’m fine.” “But we’re anxious and wish you were back in the States, at least in the same time zone.” I had planned to sit out the crisis right where I was—in southern Italy, near Calabria, where I lived and worked as a yacht captain for half the year. But if my family needed me, I had to get back to Connecticut. My work here had dried up anyway. “I’ll do my best,” I promised Karin. ANGEL #1 I tried to find a flight online but had no luck, then called…

5 min.
after the hurricane

I SQUINTED. WAS THAT a pothole? Turning the wheel, I guided the car around potential danger. It was early, still dark, and the back roads that wind over and around our creeks in Fredericksburg, Virginia, were tricky even in daylight. The children were at home, still asleep, but I was driving to meet my carpool, all of us government workers in Alexandria, about an hour north. A hurricane had just blown through our area, but apart from getting to work on time, I wasn’t worried. We were fortunate, with no damage to our property, and most of the rain had already passed. I looked down for a split second to adjust the radio—and lifted my eyes back up to see…muddy water? Taking my foot off the gas pedal, I felt the car…

1 min.
the collector

JACK, MY GREAT-NEPHEW, stared in fascination at the little wooden person nearly his size. “That’s Pinocchio,” I told the toddler, moving the puppet’s arms and legs jauntily up and down. “He belonged to your great-grandmother.” My mother had run a nursery school, and when she died, some of her toy collection came to me. She didn’t like the new plastic toys that cried or buzzed or beeped, but the old-fashioned ones, like the antique china dolls, Steiff stuffed animals and wooden pull toys that she felt really fostered a child’s imagination. My mother always said that a child’s love could bring any toy to life. As a widow with no children of my own, I was thrilled when Jack was born, but also sad that his great-grandmother wasn’t alive to meet…

3 min.

“LOOK!” I SAID to my husband, Roger, pointing to the budding purple wisteria branches. “The mourning doves have built a nest!” As I watched the gray doves take turns coming and going in shifts to sit on their eggs, the waves of grief I still felt over my son Steven’s death three years earlier came less frequently. Here in our backyard was yet another of God’s reminders that he would always be there to reassure and comfort me. But then on a chilly April day, we watched aghast as a hawk swooped down and took one of the doves, and by the next morning the other parent was gone too. Roger clambered up a ladder to take a peek into the nest. Was it possible the hawk had spared the young?…

4 min.
guiding light

STUCK IN THE HOUSE, I was struggling to find productive ways to spend my time. The Covid-19 pandemic had kept me inside for so long already, and there was no end in sight. Fear and worry could get the better of me in a swirl of unknowing, with so much completely out of my control. What could I do today to keep myself grounded? If looking toward the future proved too much for right now, I’d look to the past. Perhaps this was the “rainy day” I’d been waiting for to get to that genealogy research I was interested in. I pulled out the boxes of family documents I’d saved and dragged them to the kitchen table. Lord, let this be my answer just for today. First, I had to get organized.…