Midwayer Rescue.


Calling All Angels!

(Written by Devina Rhea - Edited by 11:11.)

It Was An Ill Wind That Blew.

On September 5 of 1996, Hurricane Fran bored down on the North Carolina coast with winds up to 115 MPH, wind gusts of up to 125 MPH. 37 people lost their lives, and Fran managed to chalk up a repair bill of over $5 billion in North Carolina and Virginia. Homes were destroyed, some 2 million customers lost electricity, and particularly hard hit was the district and town of Raleigh.

Devina Rhea lived in Raleigh, and she, too, lost her home. However, to the young woman, that loss was hardly the biggest problem she faced. Devina suffers from Childhood Onset Type 1 Diabetes. In the aftermath of Fran, she had lost her insurance card, money, and the test strips to test her insulin levels.

Devina tells her story-just a tiny chapter in her upcoming publication.

A "Slow-Motion" Kind Of Feeling.

Just a few days before Hurricane Fran put me out of house and home, I had purchased and started reading a book called, "Ask Your Angels." I feel I was led to purchase that book, because after I brought it home and unpacked it, I was surprised at noting the title. I had experienced a strange feeling as I wandered into that bookstore, a "slow-motion" kind of feeling, an "out-of-time" kind of feeling. I was to experience that unusual feeling again, just weeks later.

A Real Life-threatening Issue.

Due to hurricane Fran, I found myself at a new address, and also in a sudden great need of medical supplies. Having become a Type 1 Diabetic at age eleven, I have learned to live with many complications in my life, but being without medicine at that time was a real life-threatening issue. I urgently needed new test strips to check my insulin levels, since a diabetic coma can happen with very little warning.
Together with a friend, I set out in my car to visit a pharmacy. I did my very best to subdue my fears, and to avoid any feeling of panic. I decided I would simply explain to the pharmacist the awkward situation of my having no test strips, but also no insurance card. Surely, he or she would credit me the supplies for a few days while I waited for my new card to arrive. I felt that following the recent hurricane, everyone would be eager to help others.
My friend went off to do some shopping, and I patiently waited my turn in a very long line of customers. Finally I had the opportunity to share my fears about this dilemma with the pharmacist.

. . . When My Life Was At Risk!

The pharmacist looked dreadfully fatigued and overworked. Perhaps like thousands of others, she, too, might still be without power, or perhaps she had lost her home.

She sounded bitter, and she loudly proclaimed to me that there was no way she could do anything without sighting the insurance card. It was simply out of the question. Then she abruptly turned away from me, dismissing me, and she moved on to the next customer.

When my life was at risk!

For a moment I just stood there. As I turned to walk away, I saw a man about 30 years of age with shoulder-length blond hair walking towards me, and towards the long line that was still getting longer. He had his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and he kind of bounced rather energetically as he walked. Briefly I wondered what damned right he had to look so happy, when I was so fearful and angry at my being ignored.

If At First You Don’t Succeed . . .

I decided to once more try and plead with this pharmacist, but now I had to go back to the end of the line. Angry and brooding, I shuffled inch by inch back towards the counter, and finally I was able to speak to the woman again.

I told her, "Ma’am, I know its not procedure, but I assure you my insurance card will be here within a few days, and you can file it then. I will give you my driver’s license, my phone number, and anything else you may need. Many people are suffering because of this hurricane, and I am sure you are one of them. I myself am now homeless, and that is why I had a sudden change of address. My insurance card could not be forwarded, so it was returned to sender. It will take a little more time for me to receive it, so could you please reconsider my request?"

"So What Do I Do Now, God?"

She snapped at me, "I am sorry, Miss, but I can’t do it."
I asked her if she could possibly sell me one vial of strips from the box of four, for the price of $25, instead of $100 for four vials, because $25 was all I had, but she refused. She would not break up the box, and she said she could not help me. I felt broken up. I was so very frightened.
My mind cried out, "So what do I do now, God, if I do not have my strips? I am in total fear, and I can’t deal with this! Please? GOD! What am I supposed to do now?" God heard my cries and answered them.

He sent me an angel.

I stormed out of the place, unsure if I would simply forget about those strips and wait until my miserable life would simply end in a coma, or wait for a moment of clarity of mind and figure out what next I could try.

And perhaps do some more living.

"I’ve Been Sent To Help You."

There was no decision for me to make. I sensed someone behind me, walking swiftly, trying to catch up with me. I felt like a child that had just stormed out of the house, knowing all the while that one of the parents would come running after me. Without looking back, I sensed I was being stalked.

The moment I put the key in the door of my car, I heard a man say, "Excuse me."

I stopped but I still did not turn around. I kind of froze right there.
"Excuse me," he repeated, "I don’t mean to intrude, but I overheard your conversation with the pharmacist."

Finally I turned to face him. I was surprised to recognize the "happy guy" I had earlier seen in the store. "Yes?" I asked rather sarcastically.
He ever so slightly tilted his head, and said, "I did hear about your situation inside the drug store, and I have been sent to help you."
"You have?" I asked again wide-eyed and questioning. My anger and sarcasm had vanished completely. Only curiosity remained.
He briefly touched me on the shoulder and said, "Yes, if you will just come with me . . ." He paused.

My friend had arrived with her shopping, and she had interrupted him by shouting, "Come on Devina, this guy is just following us!"

I turned to her, and said, "It’s okay, I will be right back. Wait for me a minute." I followed right behind this gentle stranger, watching his long hair sway from side to side as his bouncing gait took him to the far corner of the parking grounds. Again, and just like I experienced in the bookstore, I got that "slow-motion" kind of feeling. Time, somehow, was different. Perhaps I was in a trance. I wondered what was happening to me. I felt strange, but I felt safe.

Here I was following a complete stranger, feeling like a small child, because I sensed him to be a wise old man, perhaps a bit like Santa Claus or even Jesus Himself! His presence had instantly calmed me. I watched him closely, and everything about him.

A Miracle.

Amazingly, right there I admitted to myself that I truly loved him!

There was a red car under a tree at the far end of the near-empty parking lot. The happy guy opened the driver’s side door, and as I looked over his shoulder, I saw a box of the blood sugar monitoring strips I was trying to purchase inside the store sitting on the seat.

"Are you diabetic too, Sir?" I asked in disbelief.
He answered, "No, I am not."
"Happy Guy" had followed me immediately out of the drug store. He had hardly taken his hands out of his pockets the whole time. Besides, I suddenly realized the box was much too bulky to have fitted inside his pockets.
The box had been in his car all that time!

He handed me the box, and I said, "Well, thank you so much, but I don’t understand. Where did these come from? How did you know that I needed them so badly?"
He hesitated it seemed, then he replied, "Well, I have been sent to help you. I work with angels. Please take your gift and don’t question it much. Just take it and know that you have what you need."
I answered, "Okay, thank you so much. I don’t know what else to say".
I felt like I was in a trance again, spinning almost. I felt that this moment with him was something very special, and I would never forget it, because a real miracle had happened.

I could only say thank you and I felt myself moving backward. I turned to leave him, as if following his orders to go in peace. Then I shouted, "Yes, I do believe in angels Sir!" I turned to face him again. "Just the other day…"

He wasn’t there! I was talking to the breeze. I scanned the empty parking lot. I looked all around. Where did he go? I felt so silly. I thought of crouching down to look under the car, but that was ridiculous.

He had vanished!


Question: That’s a really good story! That’s so very genuine, and so truthfully told. Do you have any idea why that <happy fellow> bounced as he walked? - Steve

Reply: Midwayers dart around like greased lightning on long journeys and they kind of glide into position over short distances. I can only presume that (1) they are not used to walking all that much, and (2) they have energy to spare when occasionally they need to materialize. They might well think we are all dragging our feet - G.

Question: George do they all have long blond hair? …. J.

Reply: No, ABC-22, and MNO-8 both have short black hair. I did see a Midwayer male with blue eyes and long blond hair in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, but he was quite tall, whilst Devina describes "happy guy" as being average height. - G.

Question: Could Devina’s rescuer have been an ordinary angel? Thank you all the 11:11 crew for your hard work! M.

Reply: It would have to have been an extraordinary Angel! Angels are many timeframes removed from us. For doing that stunt, an Angel would have needed to recuperate for a long time, I guess. Midwayers are most suited to the task, and there was plenty of notice to "blow the whistle" for one of the 1,111 experts to whiz around - G.

Comment: That was an excellent story. I believe it. One of these days when I get ambitious, I will tell the story of my rescue from a serial killer in London when I was traveling alone - T.

Reply: Now would be a good time to get ambitious. :o) - G.

Note: T’s story coming up.

© 11:11 Progress Group.
Toujours au Service de Michael.

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