Proof The Bible Is True

One day my friend Bob, who has multiple sclerosis, mentioned how Angus had helped him retrieve something he couldn’t reach from his wheelchair. I knew his wife, Rita, and his cat, Patches, but Angus? “Oh, Angus is what I’ve named my guardian angel,” he explained.

I’d always been a skeptic but Bob was a pretty smart guy, so I decided maybe there was something to this guardian angel business after all. Still, even if I did have my own angel, the idea of naming it seemed presumptuous.

About a week later I was putting pans away after baking a batch of cookies when I strained my back trying to close the drawer under the oven. I called my handyman to come fix it, but there was no answer. Then the thought of Bob and Angus popped into my head.

“God, if I have one,” I prayed, “let my guardian angel help me with this drawer.”

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