A Christmas Angel

A knock came at the door. Who could it be? I had to get to work and had less than an hour to be there. I had worked overtime the night before and had only had about four hours sleep. I'd set the alarm and when it went off, I had groaned, but got up and headed for the shower. Just as I finished dressing, the knock sounded. I opened the door to see an old man, dressed in a heavy houndstooth coat standing on my step. Though the snow was deep, he wore only a pair of beat-up running shoes.

"May I help you?" I asked a little impatiently.

"I was wondering if you had a little something that you could spare me to eat," he said, "and maybe a hot cup of tea or coffee?"

I sighed. I didn't have time for this. But as I looked at this poor soul shivering in the cold, I couldn't refuse him. Though my daughter and I had little food in the house, I said, "I don't have much, but I can make you some toast and peanut butter and a warm cup of tea."

"That would be great," he said, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them to try to get them warm.

I wasn't going to let this stranger into my house. I didn't know him and he was a tall man, probably about 6' 2" and his hands were huge. He had a stocky build and I knew that if he wanted to, he could knock me down in an instant. Yet he had the most kind, blue eyes - so blue that it seemed I could look into the depths of his soul.

"Do you mind waiting here?" I asked.

"Not at all," he answered. "Thank you."

I made the man four slices of toast and spread them thickly with peanut butter while the tea was brewing in the pot. I put the food on a paper plate and poured the strong amber tea into a cup. I took them to the step where the man stood and handed the food and tea to him.

"Thanks kindly, Maam," he said.

I went back into the house and went about my business. Before long, I decided to check to see if the man had finished the food and tea. He had, so I poured him another cup of tea and asked him if he could use a warm pair of gloves. I had a pair that had belonged to my late husband and knew that they weren't doing anyone any good on the shelf in the closet. I also took him a pair of work boots that had been my husband's.

As I handed the man the boots and gloves, tears welled in his rheumy eyes. "Are you sure, Maam?" he asked.

"Most definitely," I assured him.

The man sat down on the step and placed the boots on his feet. A perfect fit. Then he pulled the gloves onto his beet-red hands. They also fit perfectly.

I walked into the house and remembered that I had some cookies and a cake in the freezer. I grabbed them and ran out of the house to give them to him. He was nowhere in sight.

We lived in the middle of the block. A church was on one side and a power transformer on the other. I ran to the corner and looked up and down the street. Nothing. I ran around the corner to the church. Again there was no one in sight. Where could he have gone? He hadn't had time to get far enough away that I couldn't see him. How strange!

A week later on Christmas Eve, a taxi pulled up to my door. The driver brought in two large boxes of food. There was everything in those boxes for a Christmas dinner. A turkey, stuffing, bread, butter, potatoes, cranberries, vegetables, candy, cookies and so much more. Who in the world had been so generous?

I asked the cab driver who had sent the boxes, but he said he didn't know. He had been called to a local grocery store and a man had asked him to deliver the boxes to my address. The man hadn't given him a name and the cab driver really didn't understand it. "He looked like a street person," he told me.

As I put the food away, I remembered something that Grandma had told me. "Always be kind to strangers, as you may be entertaining angels unaware."

As I thought of my grandmother's words, shivers ran along my spine. Had the old man been an angel? I believe he was. Whether a heavenly angel in disguise or an earthly angel, he provided our family with a wonderful Christmas feast.

As Christmas approaches each year, I think about my Christmas angel and wonder where he is and who he's helping this year. I certainly hope that whoever it is appreciates his gift as much as my daughter and I did so many years ago.

If you would like to read my story, Bringing Home the Tree, I have posted it on my Treasures to Me blog. Just click on the link to visit.

Merry Christmas to all of my friends and visitors. May the Light of Christmas shine brightly in your hearts and home this Christmas season. ~Blessings, Mary~