An Angel in Disguise

They were stranded with car trouble. Would this burly, bearded man in a black leather vest prove to be heaven-sent?

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Miles of flat desert stretched out on either side of the highway. Cody, my five-year-old, squirmed happily on my lap. “Where are we now, Mommy?”

My father answered from behind the wheel. “About halfway between Reno and Las Vegas.” Mom nodded from the passenger seat.

Mom and Dad had made this trip dozens of times. My five siblings and I called them the Road Warriors for all the hours they spent in their big blue travel van since retirement.

They met and married in the Southwest. The desert was home to them. I knew Cody would love taking the drive from our home in Oregon to New Mexico, but that wasn’t the real reason I had come along.

The truth was, I worried about my parents traveling alone these days. Dad was diabetic and had heart problems. Plus he had to take care of Mom, who was in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. If something happened to them on the highway what would they do?

Cars could be few and far between. Most people didn’t have cell phones yet. So when Dad told me they were getting the van ready for a trip, Cody and I joined them.

The ride down had been great. Dad took Cody to The Rio Grande, his favorite Indian outpost in New Mexico. We got woven rugs in Santa Fe and hot green chili steaks at Don Diego’s in Gallup.

Now we were headed home. I knew I’d made the right decision by coming, even if we never ran into any trouble whatsoever.

“How about a stretch break, Dad?” I suggested.

As if in answer the engine coughed and sputtered. We rolled to a stop. The engine was dead. Dad climbed out of his seat. The 90-degree desert heat hit me as soon as he opened the door. It rippled off the asphalt in waves.

Dad went around to the front of the van and lifted the hood. Mom swiveled around to play with Cody. But I was afraid.

“Can you fix it?” I asked, stepping out of the van. The highway was empty. Not a single car had passed us for miles and miles.

Dad shook his head. “We’re quite a ways from anything,” he said. “I’d better start out.”

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Dad walk around the block, much less hike down a desert highway in searing heat. Inside the van, Cody pulled out some of his toys. “Here, Grandma,” he said, handing her an action figure. Mom took the toy, clearly unaware of the danger we were in.

I couldn’t leave Dad to look after both of them while I went for help myself. Dad could see I was torn.

“I’m going,” Dad said. “That’s that.”

He marched down the highway, an old man by himself. I watched him walk up the slight hill in the distance, getting smaller and smaller, until he disappeared over the crest into the shimmering heat. I had visions of him collapsing on the side of the road with no one there to protect him.

Please, God, send an angel to help him—to help us! What else could I do but pray for our safety?

Mom and Cody chatted happily in the van. They trusted everything would be all right. I didn’t. How long could we wait before Dad came back with help? How long was too long? What if Dad didn’t come back at all? What would I do then?

I turned away from the van to look back up the highway where Dad had disappeared in the distance. I didn’t want Cody or Mom to see the tears in my eyes.

Behind me, I heard the sound of an engine. A car was coming up the road! Please let it be someone nice! A banged-up sedan drove into view. I could tell there were two men inside. The car pulled up beside our van.

At the wheel was the furthest thing from an angel I could imagine: a big, burly, bearded man in a black leather vest. I’d prayed and prayed for an angel from heaven. It looked like I’d gotten a Hells Angel instead!

Then I noticed the man in the passenger seat. “Dad!” How on earth had he turned up in a sedan with this man?

“Get in!” Dad said happily. “He’s taking us to a mechanic.”

I helped Cody and Mom into the backseat of the sedan. However banged up it was on the outside, the air conditioner worked fine. Mom sighed with relief as she settled herself in. I slid in nervously beside her. Our driver looked even bigger from inside the car, and I tried not to stare at his tattoos.

“Don’t worry,” the man said. “I know a guy who can help.” He flashed a big smile.

We took off down the road. The last of my doubts disappeared. We would be all right. I couldn’t always watch over my parents and my son. I couldn’t be in all places at once. But God’s angels were everywhere—sometimes in the least likely disguises.

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A Journey of Faith

Embark on a moving journey of faith as Edward Grinnan, Guideposts’ Editor-in-Chief, shares his inspiring memoir on navigating his mother’s Alzheimer’s and conquering his own fear. A blessing for those facing trials.

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