This little story is a complement to the story "A Day in My Life"
that Anna and I have written together.
This is by Anna (anna.karin.hulterstrom@odont.umu.se) alone though.
It's the story of a little girl and her friendship with Andrew.
Our beta reader Leigh has a usual done an excellent job trying to get
my English up to standards.
Disclaimer: Andrew does not belong to anyone else but Martha Williamson.
Mary-Beth's Story
My name is Mary-Beth and this is my story.
I was born on Christmas Day, I know that, but I don't know who my
real parents were. My parents, or one of them, left me to be found in
a church when I was newly born. My good friend Andrew found me and
thanks to him, I ended up in the best family possible.
I say 'my friend Andrew', but in the beginning he was more like the
kind uncle. He used to come and visit me every Christmas, and of
course he always had a present for me; a teddy bear or a doll and,
when I was three, a beautiful silver necklace with a little silver
angel.
I'm not quite sure when I knew that he is an angel, but I think it
started the winter that I turned five. My adoptive brother, Jeff, was
into ice hockey and I didn't want to miss a single one of his games.
This day, however, I was coming down with a cold. I could feel my
temperature going up, but I faked feeling fine just so that I could
see the game. I ended up with double-sided pneumonia and my parents
had to take me to the hospital. I was too young to know just how ill
I really was, but I was delighted when Andrew turned up. I remember
being surprised when the others couldn't see him, but I thought it
was a game. I will never forget Andrew then. He was dressed in a
white suit and he always sat with a light behind him (or so I
thought).
I think I must have become certain of who Andrew was the following
year. One side effect of the pneumonia had been that I became
susceptible to all kinds of infections. One of those numerous bouts
of illness brought on a feeling of being out of breath and of being
very tired. The doctor thought I had best come in to the hospital so
that they could figure out what was wrong. They had run me through a
lot of tests that day and I was tired. In spite of that, I still woke
up in the middle of the night feeling panicky. I could not get enough
air. My mother, who was with me at the hospital, was sleeping. Then
Andrew came. He was wearing something white, just like last time, but
this time I could see that he was not standing with the light behind
him, the light came from him. All my life I had loved and trusted
him, and now that I realized what he was, I found that the panic was
dissolving. He showed me the button to press to get help, and then he
stayed with me until the nurse and doctor had had been able to help
me.
This nightly episode helped the doctor to understand what was wrong
with me. He said that the infection I had had attacked my heart and
that all I now needed was a lot of antibiotics.
A couple of days after I had been sent home again, Andrew came to
visit. He had come by for an hour or two before, but it was always
special when he turned up. We were left alone long enough for me to
ask him if he is an angel, and of course he confirmed that he is one.
Andrew was my very best friend, but I couldn't help feeling very
blessed to have an angel as an uncle. As soon as I was fit enough, I
went to the church to thank God properly for letting me have one of
His angels as my uncle and friend.
So now I knew that Andrew is an angel, but I did not yet know what
kind of angel he is. I probably didn't think about it either. I seem
to recall that I kind of assumed that he was my guardian angel. I
mean, what else could he be?
I learned just what kind of angel Andrew is the spring when I was
seven. My mom had gone back to work again now that I had started
school, but Granny was always home when I returned from school. On
this particular day she didn't answer me as usual as I came through
the door. Intrigued I went to look for her. I found her lying on the
floor in the kitchen. To my relief I found Andrew there with her. She
seemed to be in pain, so I asked if I could get her an aspirin or
something. She laughed a little when I said that, and then she asked
me to sit down beside her. She said that I could run for help when it
was over, but right now she just wanted to have me by her side. She
turned her gaze to Andrew, as if she asked him to continue because it
was he who spoke next. He told me that his main job was to escort
people home to God, that this was nothing to be afraid of, that my
granny was having a heart attack at the moment and that this was a
very good time to go and phone 911. Andrew was gone when I returned
from the phone.
Andrew turned up the following day, just as he had the year before.
It felt strange sitting there talking to Death. I said so, and he
looked slightly hurt. So I asked him if I had hurt his feelings. He
told me that he was not 'Death'. He was an angel who was there to
help people through the inevitable, but that he never, ever caused
death. He also told me that he felt hurt when he saw how people liked
to picture death - the more gruesome the better. He reminded me of
all the happy, good times we had had together. I guess that I had
known Andrew for so long that I really didn't need much convincing. I
knew in my heart that Andrew was my friend - and would always be. I
guess I was glad that he had been there for Granny.
I had always believed in God, and these events confirmed my beliefs
and taught me a whole lot more about God that I had not known before.
Contributing to this were the things that Andrew told me, when I
asked him. I felt so blessed and so safe. I did not care that my
heart had been damaged by the bacterial infection and that it
probably would need surgery in the future. I knew that God was taking
good care of me.
All in all, I felt like I was the happiest, luckiest little girl in
the whole world. God had given me to a wonderful family who really
loved me; He had also given me an angel as a best friend - and
sometime uncle, who could ask for more.
The spring when I was ten was special. The whole class was full of
anticipation - we were going on a three-day field trip. We saved
money and we organized flea markets, all to raise the amount of money
needed to take us on that trip. Then the day arrived. We gathered in
the schoolyard with our packed bags, and sleeping bags. Then the bus
arrived and we all climbed in. As luck would have it, I ended up
sitting alone near the front of the bus as my best friend, Susan, was
ill.
The trip was going very well until the bus started the climb up the
mountain towards the pass. It was halfway there that Andrew turned
up. He just sat there in the seat beside me as if he had been sitting
there all the time. The only problem was that he was wearing what I
had begun to call his 'uniform'. I could feel my heart in my mouth
and there was a sinking feeling in my stomach. I turned my head and
gazed in his eyes in a silent question. He answered it by saying
"Yes, Mary-Beth." His eyes looked so sad when he said that it made me
I forget my own fear and I wanted to comfort him.
Sitting up front gave me the advantage of being able to lean forward
and tell the driver that I was scared and would he please drive a
little bit more slowly. The other kids called me a sissy, but I saw
that Andrew looked relieved. Nevertheless, it happened. All of a
sudden the driver lost his control of the bus and we went over the
edge and down into the ravine. Everybody around me was screaming and
I guess that I was screaming, too. It is only if I look back at the
accident that I notice all the lurching and banging into things. When
it happened, everything occurred so fast that there was no time to
notice.
Curiously enough, I was not afraid. Andrew was sitting beside me and
I knew that some of my friends and or me might get killed. Everything
went black. Then I heard Andrew's voice calling my name. I thought he
was looking for me so I tried to sit up and call back, but then I
felt his hand on my brow. I opened my eyes and there he was. A swarm
of butterflies lifted in my stomach as I realized it was my TIME.
Andrew nodded and smiled more gently than I had ever seen, then he
took my hand and raised me to my feet. Now I could see the whole
accident scene. I saw my classmates sobbing, stumbling their way up
the walls of the ravine. I saw the driver slumped over the steering
wheel. I turned a questioning gaze to Andrew. He nodded, 'Yes'. My
asking the driver to slow down had saved the others; only the driver
and I had died. I asked him if he would help my family through this
and he promised me he that would.
Then with a joy I had never before felt, I walked with Andrew into
the light, home to the Father.
Andrew asked me the other day if I would write down my short story.
He thought it would be a complement to the diary he himself had
written over two 'ordinary' days, as if any of Andrew's days are
ordinary. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have enjoyed
living it.
God Bless
Mary-Beth
that Anna and I have written together.
This is by Anna (anna.karin.hulterstrom@odont.umu.se) alone though.
It's the story of a little girl and her friendship with Andrew.
Our beta reader Leigh has a usual done an excellent job trying to get
my English up to standards.
Disclaimer: Andrew does not belong to anyone else but Martha Williamson.
Mary-Beth's Story
My name is Mary-Beth and this is my story.
I was born on Christmas Day, I know that, but I don't know who my
real parents were. My parents, or one of them, left me to be found in
a church when I was newly born. My good friend Andrew found me and
thanks to him, I ended up in the best family possible.
I say 'my friend Andrew', but in the beginning he was more like the
kind uncle. He used to come and visit me every Christmas, and of
course he always had a present for me; a teddy bear or a doll and,
when I was three, a beautiful silver necklace with a little silver
angel.
I'm not quite sure when I knew that he is an angel, but I think it
started the winter that I turned five. My adoptive brother, Jeff, was
into ice hockey and I didn't want to miss a single one of his games.
This day, however, I was coming down with a cold. I could feel my
temperature going up, but I faked feeling fine just so that I could
see the game. I ended up with double-sided pneumonia and my parents
had to take me to the hospital. I was too young to know just how ill
I really was, but I was delighted when Andrew turned up. I remember
being surprised when the others couldn't see him, but I thought it
was a game. I will never forget Andrew then. He was dressed in a
white suit and he always sat with a light behind him (or so I
thought).
I think I must have become certain of who Andrew was the following
year. One side effect of the pneumonia had been that I became
susceptible to all kinds of infections. One of those numerous bouts
of illness brought on a feeling of being out of breath and of being
very tired. The doctor thought I had best come in to the hospital so
that they could figure out what was wrong. They had run me through a
lot of tests that day and I was tired. In spite of that, I still woke
up in the middle of the night feeling panicky. I could not get enough
air. My mother, who was with me at the hospital, was sleeping. Then
Andrew came. He was wearing something white, just like last time, but
this time I could see that he was not standing with the light behind
him, the light came from him. All my life I had loved and trusted
him, and now that I realized what he was, I found that the panic was
dissolving. He showed me the button to press to get help, and then he
stayed with me until the nurse and doctor had had been able to help
me.
This nightly episode helped the doctor to understand what was wrong
with me. He said that the infection I had had attacked my heart and
that all I now needed was a lot of antibiotics.
A couple of days after I had been sent home again, Andrew came to
visit. He had come by for an hour or two before, but it was always
special when he turned up. We were left alone long enough for me to
ask him if he is an angel, and of course he confirmed that he is one.
Andrew was my very best friend, but I couldn't help feeling very
blessed to have an angel as an uncle. As soon as I was fit enough, I
went to the church to thank God properly for letting me have one of
His angels as my uncle and friend.
So now I knew that Andrew is an angel, but I did not yet know what
kind of angel he is. I probably didn't think about it either. I seem
to recall that I kind of assumed that he was my guardian angel. I
mean, what else could he be?
I learned just what kind of angel Andrew is the spring when I was
seven. My mom had gone back to work again now that I had started
school, but Granny was always home when I returned from school. On
this particular day she didn't answer me as usual as I came through
the door. Intrigued I went to look for her. I found her lying on the
floor in the kitchen. To my relief I found Andrew there with her. She
seemed to be in pain, so I asked if I could get her an aspirin or
something. She laughed a little when I said that, and then she asked
me to sit down beside her. She said that I could run for help when it
was over, but right now she just wanted to have me by her side. She
turned her gaze to Andrew, as if she asked him to continue because it
was he who spoke next. He told me that his main job was to escort
people home to God, that this was nothing to be afraid of, that my
granny was having a heart attack at the moment and that this was a
very good time to go and phone 911. Andrew was gone when I returned
from the phone.
Andrew turned up the following day, just as he had the year before.
It felt strange sitting there talking to Death. I said so, and he
looked slightly hurt. So I asked him if I had hurt his feelings. He
told me that he was not 'Death'. He was an angel who was there to
help people through the inevitable, but that he never, ever caused
death. He also told me that he felt hurt when he saw how people liked
to picture death - the more gruesome the better. He reminded me of
all the happy, good times we had had together. I guess that I had
known Andrew for so long that I really didn't need much convincing. I
knew in my heart that Andrew was my friend - and would always be. I
guess I was glad that he had been there for Granny.
I had always believed in God, and these events confirmed my beliefs
and taught me a whole lot more about God that I had not known before.
Contributing to this were the things that Andrew told me, when I
asked him. I felt so blessed and so safe. I did not care that my
heart had been damaged by the bacterial infection and that it
probably would need surgery in the future. I knew that God was taking
good care of me.
All in all, I felt like I was the happiest, luckiest little girl in
the whole world. God had given me to a wonderful family who really
loved me; He had also given me an angel as a best friend - and
sometime uncle, who could ask for more.
The spring when I was ten was special. The whole class was full of
anticipation - we were going on a three-day field trip. We saved
money and we organized flea markets, all to raise the amount of money
needed to take us on that trip. Then the day arrived. We gathered in
the schoolyard with our packed bags, and sleeping bags. Then the bus
arrived and we all climbed in. As luck would have it, I ended up
sitting alone near the front of the bus as my best friend, Susan, was
ill.
The trip was going very well until the bus started the climb up the
mountain towards the pass. It was halfway there that Andrew turned
up. He just sat there in the seat beside me as if he had been sitting
there all the time. The only problem was that he was wearing what I
had begun to call his 'uniform'. I could feel my heart in my mouth
and there was a sinking feeling in my stomach. I turned my head and
gazed in his eyes in a silent question. He answered it by saying
"Yes, Mary-Beth." His eyes looked so sad when he said that it made me
I forget my own fear and I wanted to comfort him.
Sitting up front gave me the advantage of being able to lean forward
and tell the driver that I was scared and would he please drive a
little bit more slowly. The other kids called me a sissy, but I saw
that Andrew looked relieved. Nevertheless, it happened. All of a
sudden the driver lost his control of the bus and we went over the
edge and down into the ravine. Everybody around me was screaming and
I guess that I was screaming, too. It is only if I look back at the
accident that I notice all the lurching and banging into things. When
it happened, everything occurred so fast that there was no time to
notice.
Curiously enough, I was not afraid. Andrew was sitting beside me and
I knew that some of my friends and or me might get killed. Everything
went black. Then I heard Andrew's voice calling my name. I thought he
was looking for me so I tried to sit up and call back, but then I
felt his hand on my brow. I opened my eyes and there he was. A swarm
of butterflies lifted in my stomach as I realized it was my TIME.
Andrew nodded and smiled more gently than I had ever seen, then he
took my hand and raised me to my feet. Now I could see the whole
accident scene. I saw my classmates sobbing, stumbling their way up
the walls of the ravine. I saw the driver slumped over the steering
wheel. I turned a questioning gaze to Andrew. He nodded, 'Yes'. My
asking the driver to slow down had saved the others; only the driver
and I had died. I asked him if he would help my family through this
and he promised me he that would.
Then with a joy I had never before felt, I walked with Andrew into
the light, home to the Father.
Andrew asked me the other day if I would write down my short story.
He thought it would be a complement to the diary he himself had
written over two 'ordinary' days, as if any of Andrew's days are
ordinary. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have enjoyed
living it.
God Bless
Mary-Beth