When I run across a great article that I want to reference in my blog, I typically supply a summary and a link to the article. Unfortunately, the number of folks that check out the original article are often only a fraction of those who read the blog entry. Sometimes that is of little concern to me, but tonight I want to share something with readers of The New Forty that I want to make sure is read. It is a story that I cannot adequately summarize, but what I would consider a must-read. Hence, I am sharing it here today in its entirety.
Below is the article, written by Al Edenloff and published on April 12, 2014 on INFORUM.
Are there really angels among us?
Larry Kvitek of Alexandria had an unusual encounter a couple of weeks ago.
It all started when he came across a stranger in the parking lot of The Coffee Pot Café. The man came up to where Kvitek was parked and asked him for a ride to Walmart.
Kvitek was a little wary of the request. He knew there was danger in driving someone he didn’t know clear across town. But it was a cold day and the middle-aged man, dressed in a plaid jacket, didn’t appear to be a threat, so Kvitek obliged.
The two didn’t speak during the short trip. Kvitek just dropped him off and felt good about helping a stranger.
About a week later, Kvitek ended up in Knute Nelson, recovering from a fall on the ice when a man, wearing a Paul Bunyan-style plaid jacket, walked into his room – the same man he’d helped out that cold morning.
The man didn’t say anything. He just held out his hand and dropped a small, metal, silver-colored cross into Kvitek’s hand. Kvitek looked at the cross, admiring the soft, rounded edges. He turned it over and saw the word, “Blessings” inscribed on it.
When he looked up to thank the man, he was gone.
When Kvitek walked out into the hall to find him, the man wasn’t anywhere in sight. It was as if his visitor had disappeared into thin air.
Kvitek asked a couple nurses outside his room if they’d seen the man. They hadn’t. He asked if someone had checked to find out what room Kvitek was in. No one had.
Kvitek, who said he’s just as skeptical as the next person about strange experiences, was shaken by what happened. Once the co-owner of the old K&K Sports that used to be on 3rd Avenue, Kvitek has been a resident of Alexandria since 1948, and he said this is the first time he’s experienced anything like this.
It’s left him with a lot of questions.
“How did he know I was at Knute Nelson?” he asked. “How did he know what room I was in?”
When Kvitek told the nurses what had just happened, how his visitor was the same one he’d helped a week ago, one of them started to cry. “It must have been an angel,” she said.
Kvitek still isn’t sure what, exactly, took place. “He was gone so quickly…I didn’t see him when I looked up. I’m not exaggerating. That’s how it was.”
Kvitek knows there will be skeptics out there who will come up with other explanations, but he’s not dismissing the angel possibility.
“If someone else tells you something like this happened to them, you’d probably make light of it,” he said. “But not when it happens to you.”
Kvitek has since put the cross in a small, cushioned box. He takes it out every now and then and feels the soft, rounded edges, and he thinks about kindness to strangers, blessings and the possibility of angels.
This is one of those stories that puts both a smile on your face and hope in your heart. Are there really angels among us? I do believe there are. Indeed, the article offered us two – one in human form (Larry Kvitek) who evidenced kindness toward a stranger and the other more mysterious one who visited the hospital in his plaid coat. Kindness toward others is the manifestation of God’s will and within that framing we could all find ways to be an angel in someone’s life. As for Larry Kvitek’s angel, I surmise we will never know for sure whether the man in the plaid coat was a heavenly angel. As for me, I believe in the beautiful energy that surrounds us whether it comes to me wearing plaid or not.
Day one thousand three hundred and seventy-seven of the new forty – obla di obla da