Barbara's Angels

                                                Barbara’s Angels

                                                  As Told to Terri  Martin

      I recall the hot summer day when I took my three grandchildren to the photographer to have their pictures taken. I remember how silly they were acting as they teased and flirted with the photographer by making funny faces and doing silly poses trying to distract him. He joked back at them making them smile.
"They sure love life," he said. "They stole my heart when they came into the room."
Every where I took the children they seemed to touch the hearts of everyone they met.

    Little did I know that just two weeks later, the pictures would be put on the three heart-shaped headstones of their graves.

On a hot, summer August evening, just a week before school was to start, Brittany, 13, Aaron 10, and Misty, 9, were on their way home with some friends after attending an All-Star game. The driver of the car was coming from the opposite direction and crossed over into their lane and hit the car they were in head on. All five people, including my three grandchildren, died.

When the officer came to the house to tell us what happened, I could see the tears in the eyes of the officer when he gave us the news. 
"Oh please God, don't let this be true," I cried. But it was true. All three children were dead.  I pictured the night that we sat in my son's living room, not knowing what to say but surrounding each other with love and strength. I knew that God would be with us during this sad time. He took it hard, losing his three children and he could never get quite over it.   

Ten months later my son Jimmy, 41, the children's father, was driving his Jeep Cherokee with a trailer behind it. He was planning to go on a camping trip. 
The trailer started to sway and he lost control of the Jeep causing the trailer to flip over breaking Jimmy's neck and leaving him quadriplegic.

Again an officer came to our house and  tried to explain how the accident happened, I could feel my heart stop and I gasped to catch my breath.

"Oh my God, my son. Is he ok?"  My husband, Floyd, took one look at me and put his arms around me.  "We need to pray," he said. "Jimmy will be alright."

The recovery and therapy would be long, but I felt that God was with us every step of the way.

After visiting Jimmy at the rehabilitation center, I would visit the children's graves every day. The gravestones were heart shaped and I decorated them with the things the children loved. They loved sports so I put things like a basketball, a baseball, a soccer ball and little porcelain and plastic angels.  I bought hummingbird feeders and put one in front of each grave. I even made the nectar myself by mixing water and sugar.

It was a beautiful fall morning.  There was a warm breeze and not a cloud in the sky. I decided to sit for a minute on a bench that was donated to the children by their classmates. As I was meditating, I noticed a bright, red pickup truck pulled up behind me. And an elderly couple stopped the truck, got out, and walked over to me.

"Did you see that beautiful cloud behind you?" the woman asked. When I turned around to look at the cloud I realized that it was in the shape of an angel. When I looked back to thank the couple for making me aware of the cloud, the couple and the truck were gone.

It was a touching moment. It was as if God, himself, touched my heart with peace and love. I wanted to tell the couple that I used to call my oldest granddaughter angel, but they were gone. 

With all that has happened to me I know that God is with me. I believe that if we have faith and trust in him he will see you through. 

Each time that I return to the cemetery I sense an inner peace and love there
knowing that I will be reunited with my “Angels” again some day. 

The little ceramic angels and gifts left on the graves by the children's classmates assure me that our heavenly father cares for each of us and is with us every day. And I believe that he sends his angels to watch over us all and protect us always.