It happened during the dullest noon hours of a smoldering summer day in California. I finished my shopping of groceries at Trader Joe store near my home. All I had to do was drive to the nearest cross road, make a left turn, then a right turn, and I would be at my porch. Nearing a left-turn pocket at the end of the street a man’s hand fell on my left shoulder, and a voice shouted, “Stop immediately!” I obeyed and stopped without questioning who issued this order in my empty car? Then it happened. From the crossing road a speedy car, pushing 200 or more miles per hour, turned into my pocket. One short moment, and a head-to-head crash would be unavoidable. She made a mistake, instead of turning in her lane, being blinded by some emotional explosion she turned had instead of her lane straight into the pocket ahead of me! If I would not been stopped by the mystical hand of a stranger, the accident would be impending. Who was the stranger, and how he got into my car?  

The inevitable head-to-head collision was avoided. When the speeding lady saw me practically in front of her, her cart jumped like frog out of the “pocket” and landed onto her lane on her right. Thank God, there was free space waiting her and enough clear road for slowing down her enormous speed. Now I had time to look back who was the stranger who happened to be in my car to save life of the miserable immigrant or emigrant, which one fitted me more?

The iconic face was beautiful and clean beyond description, I tried to open my paralyzed mouth to pronounce a word of gratitude, but he disappeared, he became invisible to me. Was he an angel, or an entity from higher realm? I would never know who he was, but he saved the life of the girl who was speeding, my life and more lives and more cars because abnormal speed of the girl’s car would hit me and the remains of our cars would roll over into traffic and cause more damage than one could imagine.

However, what did happen years later, when I was tempted to publish this story in my blog, is also worth mentioning.  My friends who red this story found it unbelievable, and I was asked in both languages, in English and Russian, why I invented this fiction, as it sounded unbelievable to them. As I already mentioned, I am a medium, and donor of universal antibodies, but, regrettably, I see spirits only randomly, only during events that mobilize our all emotions, when there is danger, or some other exciting emotions involved. So, being vulnerable, limited in seeing spirits, I had not enough arguments to defend my story. It is strange, we accept fictitious angelic stories, but deny reality of interference of divinity into our daily life.

In the company of friends who thought that I was inventing this story was a seer who offered his help. “Give me some time, I will try to look into that story, but be prepared, I will say what I will see…”  He kept a little distance, yes. He did not rush to any conclusion… He was the one of doubters, and he took quite a time trying find this event in my past. But then he finally opened his mouth, and came up with a simple reaction, “Yes, it happened to her.”

Still, do we have to publish such extraordinary stories or not? Maybe it would sound like tail-tail, look at the wonderful me, angels are rushing to my aid!

On the other hand, these stories may help somebody to peel off too much ordinary from his mind, the numbness of feelings, maybe someone believe that extraordinary is a chance available to everyone, and it can cast light that may inspire us look for our hidden and usually unused abilities, hidden and repressed by the need to take care of potatoes, cabbage and everlasting worry about our daily bread and roof over our heads.

But it was not the end of the story! A friend,  a lover of cocaine relief, stood up, placed himself into center of circle, grabbed my pages with this story, and becoming unusually pale, tore them into vertical pieces, throw them into my face, yelling, “Never feed me this Christian crap, it is not happening, it cannot happen, do not call this materialization at the mountain Sinai, shame on you all!” And he was gone, running into summer night, alone and never happy with his life…

A girl started to collect the pieces of manuscript from the floor, I said, “Do not worry, leave them there, I have another copy of this manuscript, so not all is lost!”  One day I fell a sleep and saw a dream—in a Russian country home was so called “red corner” with icons and in front of one of them was old fashioned lampada. Its flickering light revealed a familiar iconic portrait. And I recognized the angel, who once saved two lives from inevitable death? Was he an angel or Jesus? I would never know.

I woke up and heard a voice … He said that He did not came to save me but pick up my soul, he came to take you to us if the accident occurs. But when I saw a racing girl who had a falling out with her lover, I took pity on her, I stopped you, and both of you were saved. This time, I came to save your nephew’s vision, and I am here, because you are my daughter… I cannot know if this is true biologically, who can find it out? But you are my daughter in a sense of openness of your heart. I cannot find a single drop of anger, and this makes the difference, you have no anger toward people who had trespassed against you, not toward those who were more talented and more successful than you.  I know that you believe that you would go blind. Your nephew would be blind if his rare decease would be not stopped right now. I hasten to stop his eye disease, which will soon prevent him from drawing, but he is the architect in present incarnation, and would be the architect in following incarnation. You were given writing talent and healing talent, you will stay on earth for a while, and be busy up to the last day on earth. Good luck to you both!