We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can fly by embracing one another.
 – Luciana DeCrescenzo

It was a stormy, rainy night with plenty of roaring thunder and terrifying lightning. My friends and I were at a concert in St. Mary’s Episcopal Church – one of the charming river churches near the St. Johns River In Green Cove Springs, Florida.  Because of the weather, many people didn’t even make it into the church. They remained in their cars waiting for the rain to pass.  Ironically, the storm paused just as the concert ended.

My friends and I dashed to the car because there was the threat of another storm arriving soon. I wasn’t driving that night so I got in the passenger side. Since it was dark and raining, I didn’t see that I was stepping onto a bed of fire ants near the car door. They obviously had come out of their bed because it was too wet for them and they were looking for a new dry spot. I must have looked like that potential dry option.

As I climbed into the car, suddenly my feet were in excruciating pain, and I was sure something had stung me. I had no idea how many times I had been stung or how many “things” were attacking me. But we knew I needed some Benadryl because the itching and pain were unbearable. So we drove a few blocks to the local pharmacy where my friend Nancy ran to get some Benadryl and a bottle of water. By the time she returned to the car, my tongue felt too big for my mouth and I was having trouble swallowing. Suddenly I felt nauseated and I might pass out. And I could no longer talk correctly.

Fortunately, my friend Nancy realized that I was in deep trouble and that she couldn’t possibly drive me to the nearest emergency room on time – it was at least a 20-minute ride there. So she dialed 911 on her cell phone. The call went directly to the fire department in Green Cove Springs. Within minutes, five big firefighters were lifting me out of the car and putting me in an ambulance where they began testing and treating me. What I didn’t know was that I was suffering from an anaphylactic shock and that my blood pressure had dropped far below a normal level and my heartbeat was erratic. They did all the right things in the gentlest and most compassionate way possible. I couldn’t talk but I felt safe and cared for and that I would be OK. They didn’t even start the motor on the ambulance until they felt I was stable enough to be moved to an emergency room some 30 minutes away. Those special angels talked to me all the way to the emergency room and would not leave me alone in the ER until I was in a room being treated by doctors and nurses at the hospital. I remember trying to tell them how nice they were. And they responded: “Sorry, Miss Joy, but we don’t have any ice.” My tongue just wouldn’t quite cooperate.

Now several days later with blisters and scabs from over 90 stings on my feet, legs, and arms proving that things had been quite precarious for me, I think about the wonderful angels who surrounded me and cared for me. My friends Nancy and Edna who tried to get the ants off my legs, got me the Benadryl, had the wisdom to call 911, and who stayed in the emergency room for hours with me; the gentle, amazing firefighters who knew what to do to literally save my life; and the skilled nurses and doctors at the hospital.

As I returned to Penney Farms, I have been overwhelmed with the kindness and empathy of my friends here who have told me how grateful they are that I am still with them. And so am I. Yes, life looks very different when you unexpectedly come up to the edge of the cliff and are kept from falling by all those angels reaching out to help you.

* Have you ever felt the presence of “angels” who have reached out to you and helped you when you were in need?

* Have you reached out to someone else when they needed you and perhaps became their “angel”?

Beloved Healer, we thank you for your endless compassion and love to us. We ask that you will help us to be more loving and helpful to those in need. Teach us how to be genuine angels to one another. Amen.

Joy Carol

www.joycarol.com