In Walks An Angel

I have always believed in angels. I have many stories of unexplained amazing happenings involving my family, especially my youngest son, Sam, and the existence of angels. No matter how much I try to rationalize the circumstances , I keep coming back to the fact that I have some sort of guardian angel. Someday I'll write about miracle one, two and three, but here is number four.

Sunday was the Beacon Hill Art Walk. The day called for rain and I was so disappointed. Displaying your art for any exhibit is a tremendous amount of work and with an out door show it's all about the weather. This year I had the largest collection of work ever and I was very excited to see my loyal customers for this very unique show.

I was given a location under the subway stop so I had shelter from the rain. I couldn't believe that up until 3 :00 it never even sprinkled once. There were lots of people and I was really happy to be there. My sister Rosalie visited with me off and on through out the day, bringing me drinks and sharing half her sandwich. Right as she was saying good bye around 3 pm, the sky suddenly turned dark gray. I asked her to wait a few minutes to help me if the rain started. People were still looking at my paintings in my tent but you could hardly see them. The rain started and became intense but the wind that came with it was like nothing I had ever experienced and it got worse and worse. We did all we could to hang on to our tent from blowing into Cambridge street. Lightening was flashing as we held onto the METAL poles of the tent. all my paintings were starting to fall off onto the ground, some were face down in the water, frames crashing. There were mini rivers of water running over my shoes. My son Zachary, who showed up to help me brake down at the end of the day, was holding as much together as he could and Rosalie and I were holding opposite poles of the tent down. I kept thinking it was going to stop but it went on. There was nothing we could do to save my work. I imagined other artists work flying through the air and hitting us too. But a young women came walking over and began to pick up my small paintings one by one, holding them safely in her arms and placings them in some random bags that were blowing around. She was like the calm steady force in the midst of chaos. We all watched her as we hung on to the tent from crashing over saying thank you thank you. Then she was gone but the wind and rain raged on and the top of my tent blew off and we were really in trouble with my larger paintings, with the heavy frames, falling all around us. She then reappeared and asked me what she could do at that point. She had to go behind what was left of my tent and get the large bin I stored my big painting in. She did and we handed her the biggest painting. I thanked her over and over again and then she was gone. To make a long story short - The rain and wind slowed down and we were able to pack up. Driving home my heart was so heavy because every single one of my paintings had been rained on and bumped and bruised. I was sure most of them were damaged beyond repair. When we arrived home my husband and other son were waiting with towels and blanket to wipe everything down and acesss the damage. I could only find one small scratch on one painting which I can re varnish. I wish I knew who that young girl was. I would like to give her a painting for helping us the way she did. But I am not sure if angles have places to keep their paintings?