“No—” A strange sense of awe and wonder gripped Greg’s heart. “No, it isn’t.”
The man winked. “I didn’t think so.” Then he turned and headed up the long driveway toward the prison.
As Greg pulled away he was stunned by the encounter with the man. How had an old prison guard known his name? Greg couldn’t remember ever saying it. Or telling him about the Charlie Brown special. For a moment Greg wanted to turn around and follow the guy, spend more time talking with him and glean something from the wisdom he seemed to possess. But the night was late and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to go back home. If he was lucky, maybe his parents hadn’t started the Charlie Brown movie yet.
Through the night and into the next morning Greg thought over everything the man had said. How had he known so much? And why would he have been hitchhiking to work when he lived so far from the prison? There was something else, too. A sense of relief stronger than his need for air. Because of the prison guard, Greg had avoided going to the party and taking drugs. In fact, the entire party scene looked suddenly dangerous and, well, crazy, really.
All because of a few minutes with a stranger.
Finally Greg decided he needed to talk to the man once more. He called the prison from his bedroom later that afternoon. “I’d like to speak to Ralph Michaels. He’s a prison guard.” Greg wondered what exactly he would say to the man, how he could explain the changes in his heart in the past few hours.
“Hmmm.” There was a pause on the other end. “I don’t believe he works here.”
Greg furrowed his eyebrows. “Of course he works there. He was going to work last night and I gave him a ride. He had his uniform on.”
“Well, I can let you talk with my supervisor, but I’ve got the employee list right here. There isn’t any prison guard named Ralph Michaels at this facility.”
“Fine.” Greg could feel his frustration rising. “Let me talk to your supervisor.”
The supervisor spent ten minutes convincing Greg that there wasn’t now and never had been a Ralph Michaels employed at the prison. Greg described the man and the place where he’d dropped him off outside the prison. “Maybe he works under a different name.”
Again the supervisor was quick to disagree. “The guys working last night were in their twenties. There was no one on duty like the man you’re describing. Besides, we have background checks— we wouldn’t let anyone work under an assumed name.”
At Greg’s request, she also checked the other prison facilities in the state, but none of them employed a Ralph Michaels either.
Stunned, Greg hung up the phone. The man had ridden with him for ten minutes, giving him subtle advice about his life and trying to point him in the right direction. Now he had disappeared, almost as if he had never existed.
Later that night, Greg told his parents about the experience.
“Sometimes God gets our attention in interesting ways.” His mother’s voice was quiet and kind. “Did you ever think that he might have been an angel?”
“An angel? Like in the Bible stories?” Greg felt his heartbeat double.
“Why not? God is still God, and his ways aren’t so different now than they were back in Bible times.”
For several weeks Greg considered the possibility, until finally he was convinced that his mother was right. Ralph must have been an angel sent to guide him through a time in his life when he had crucial choices to make. How better for God to get his attention than with a prison guard, especially in light of the choices he’d been making up until that point.
Almost overnight, Greg decided he would no longer involve himself in drinking or all-night parties. Instead, over the next year he doubled his efforts toward school and sports and began attending church again. He found a peace and assurance he had never believed could exist. Eventually Greg earned a degree in telecommunications and went on to serve as a reporter for one of the television news shows in southern Florida.
One of his first feature assignments? “Angels among us—true stories of God’s miraculous presence today.”
Invisible Protection
For the first time ever, Mia Parsons and her friend Tanya Andrews were going to spend New Year’s Eve with a hundred thousand people in downtown Pasadena, California. Excitement didn’t come close to describing the way they felt. It was the chance of a lifetime, proof that they were finally growing up.
Never, not once, did either girl think the trip could cost them their lives.
In fact, they were seventeen that year and thrilled that they were old enough to celebrate New Year’s Eve at the all-night party preceding the annual Tournament of Roses Parade along the streets of Pasadena. When morning came, the two friends would watch the parade and then return home.
The girls and their parents believed the plan was both simple and safe. They would travel together in Mia’s car and set up alongside a dozen other friends who would also be lined along the parade route. The girls didn’t drink and would easily avoid the alcohol-induced revelry that would be going on around them. Besides, their group of friends were good kids, part of their high school’s local Young Life club. They’d have plenty of fun without drinking.
Mia was not concerned about the party-types who would surround them on the parade route. Her only hesitation was Tanya. The girl was a new friend and had only been attending Young Life for a few weeks., Mia wasn’t completely sure how crazy Tanya might get out on the parade route. But whatever happened, she intended to set the pace. That way Tanya would know her limits. And regardless of how crazy things might get around them, Mia did not foresee any problems.
At first the night went as planned. She and Tanya met up with their Young Life friends and found a place along the parade route. The group laughed and danced to the music that filled the street from all directions. Despite the darkness, crowds of people walked along the parade route dressed in flamboyant attire, waving flags and shouting greetings of “Happy New Year!” Others openly tilted champagne bottles and beer cans while hooting in preparation for the approaching midnight hour.
Although Mia and her group would not be drinking that night, they had met some teens on a blanket beside their group who would be. She silently hoped none of them would get sick or hurt. The thought passed quickly and Mia began enjoying herself and the mood of the celebration around her.
About that time a small man walked past Mia and her group of friends. Abruptly he turned, set his eyes on Mia, and slowly approached her. As he reached her, he handed her a yellow sticker that read “Jesus loves you.”
“Thanks.” Mia smiled as she took the sticker. “He loves you, too.”
The man nodded and gave Mia a calm smile. Then he turned away and proceeded down Colorado Boulevard.
“That was strange.” Mia pulled Tanya aside.
“What?” Tanya looked around, confused.
“That man I was talking to.” Mia pointed to the sticker on the sleeve of her shirt. “He just walked up and gave me this.”
Tanya shrugged. “It’s New Year’s Eve. You never know who you’ll meet down here tonight.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Mia gazed down the street, but the man was no longer in sight. She smiled. “At least it’s true. The sticker, I mean.”
“Enough about the sticker.” Tanya grabbed Mia’s sleeve. “Come on. Everyone’s waiting for us.”
As the girls returned to their group of friends, Mia dismissed her thoughts of the man. The evening progressed, and people began cruising Colorado Boulevard in their cars, greeting those lined along the parade route and lending their music to the party before moving slowly along the street. Mia and her friends joined in the fun, waving to the people in the cars. It was more fun than Mia had dared to hope and she could hardly wait for midnight.
An hour later, the cars lined up along the boulevard were bumper to bumper and barely moving. At about that time, a pickup truck with two good-looking young men pulled up in front of the girls.
“Wanna ride?” one of them
called out.
Mia stifled a laugh. “Right!” she shouted over the roar of noise that filled the street. “Like we’d take a ride with a total stranger.”
The young man smiled. “Oh, come on. We’re just circling the parade route. Climb in back. We’ll take you around once and drop you back off.”
Mia and Tanya exchanged a knowing glance, silently agreeing that the driver was indeed very handsome. At that instant, Steve Simons from their Young Life group stepped in. “What’s going on?”
Mia pointed to the guy in the truck. She was grateful for the protection of the group. “He wants to take us around the route once.”
Steve looked from the guy in the truck to Mia and Tanya. “Do you know him?”
“Yes.” Tanya stepped forward. “From school.” She shot a desperate look at Mia. “Right?”
Mia eyed the truck and the handsome boys inside. What harm could come if she and Tanya sat in the back and rode once around the parade route? Traffic was moving so slowly that they could always jump out if they didn’t want to stay with the guys.
A smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Sure.” She grinned at Tanya. “We met ’em last year.”
“Well?” The driver of the truck smiled, his eyes shining. Behind him cars were backed up and honking at him. “You coming or not?”
Mia looked at Tanya and shrugged. What could it hurt? Besides, it was New Year’s Eve. Grabbing her friend’s hand, Mia pulled her toward the truck. “Sure. You only live once. Let’s go!”
Steve Simons stepped back. “As long as you know them,” he shouted as they pulled away. “Be careful.”
Tanya and Mia situated themselves against the rear of the cab and waved at the thousands of people lined up on either side of the road. The wind felt wonderful on Mia’s face and her heart was light within her. So what if they’d told Steve a small lie. This was the life, wasn’t it? Riding along with a couple of gorgeous guys, celebrating the New Year in style.
For twenty minutes the fun continued. Mia and Tanya laughed and sang songs at the top of their lungs. They linked arms and pretended it was New Year’s morning and they were part of the parade. A few times the guys yelled something out the side windows, and always their tone sounded happy and upbeat.
But when thirty minutes had passed, Mia suddenly noticed that the crowd lining the street had thinned. There were no longer markers indicating that they were on the parade route. At about that time she spun around and stared at the guys in the cab. The driver leaned over and whispered something to his friend, and both laughed out loud.
That’s when Mia noticed that both guys were drinking. There were several empty beer cans along the floor of their vehicle.
Just then the vehicle came to a stop at an intersection. “We’re leaving Pasadena!” She gripped Tanya’s arm. “The guys are leaving with us!”
Suddenly, above the noise of the boys’ truck radio, Mia heard a voice whisper in her ear, “Get out! They’re taking you to the beach to rape you.”
Panic filled Mia’s heart. She had no time to wonder who had whispered the warning as she peered through the back window and the windshield. What she saw made her heart skip a beat. They were about to enter the westbound Ventura Freeway—a route that eventually would lead them to the beach.
“Quick!” she shouted at Tanya. “We’re in trouble! Get out!” Tanya’s mouth fell open but she made no move to jump out of the truck.
Just then, the driver sped up so that they were moving twice as fast as before. Mia gasped. He must have heard her scream and now he was barreling toward the freeway ramp.
In a split-second decision Mia knew she would rather die on a roadway in Pasadena than be taken to the beach and raped. God? I’ve gotten myself in a crazy spot here. Help me … please! She crawled toward the back of the truck, stood up, and jumped onto the roadway before Tanya could stop her.
Mia felt herself sail through the air. This is it, she thought, I’m going to die and I’ll never have the chance to tell my parents I’m sorry. Then there was nothing but silence.
Cars from all directions came to a screeching halt as Mia’s body slammed onto the pavement and slid into the middle of the intersection. Although a number of cars were traveling fast and headed right toward her, one at a time each of them swerved and missed hitting her.
Later, one of the passersby would say there seemed almost to be a protective shield around the girl as she lay in the road untouched by the heavy traffic. A motorcycle police officer had seen what happened. He called for help and was instantly at Mia’s side. He had worked enough accident scenes to know that the girl would have serious injuries. Perhaps even fatal injuries.
He ran to her side. “Don’t move.” He reached for her pulse. “I’ve already called for help.”
Mia couldn’t make sense of what was happening. She should’ve been terribly injured, but nothing hurt. Instead there was a strange sense of assurance, mingled with the greatest urgency she’d ever felt. “My friend!” Tears streamed down her face. “They’re going to rape my friend.”
The officer looked up and saw the pickup truck. For a moment, the truck had temporarily pulled off to the side of the road when Mia had jumped. But now the driver was attempting to enter the freeway once again. Immediately the officer climbed back onto his motorcycle, flipped on his red lights, and in a few seconds pulled the truck over.
As soon as the truck stopped, Tanya climbed out the back and ran toward Mia, who was still in the middle of the street. Several drivers and parade goers had rushed to the scene and were gathered around her, trying to help. Tanya was crying when she reached her friend.
“Why did you do that, Mia?” She stood over her friend and ran her hand through her hair. “You could have killed yourself!”
“They were going to rape us, Tanya. I heard it. Someone told me they were going to take us to the beach and rape us.”
Tanya’s face grew pale. “Who said it? I didn’t hear anything.”
Mia pointed toward the freeway signs. “Look. They left the parade route a long time ago, and they were just about to take us on the freeway. They’re drinking, Tanya. As soon as we got on the freeway, we would have been good as dead. Don’t you see?”
Tanya looked back at the truck where the police officer was administering a sobriety test to the young man behind the wheel. “Mia, you’re right. I can’t believe we were so stupid.” Tanya was terrified as she knelt by her friend’s side. “Are you okay?”
For the first time since jumping from the car, Mia rolled onto her back and sat up. She was wearing long white denim jeans and her eyes grew wide as she ran her fingers over her knees. She had fallen right onto the pavement and skidded several feet along the asphalt before coming to a stop. Yet the knees and fronts of her jeans were completely clean and unharmed.
Suddenly Mia remembered that as she hit the road she had seemed to lose all sense of feeling in her body. There had been no pain, no fear—only a certainty that she had done what she had to do to save her life.
Now as she remembered the strange sensation of landing on the road without pain, she looked at the palms of her hands. She had seen her hands sliding along the street and knew they should have been torn apart from the rough road. But as she examined them she found that they, too, were unharmed. Her skin was as soft and unscratched as if she had never touched the road.
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Can you see this, Tanya? I’m perfectly fine.”
Tanya studied her friend and for a long while she said nothing. She had seen the way Mia had jumped from the car and landed harshly on the pavement. It was impossible that she would be unmarked by the fall.
Mia stood up and looked herself over once more. There wasn’t even any dirt to brush off her body, and she felt perfectly fine. Too stunned to wait for the police officer, she motioned for Tanya to follow her, and the girls set off walking back toward their friends. They were silent much of the way, until at last their group came into sight. At that moment Mia stop
ped and glanced down at her shirtsleeve. There was the sticker, also completely unscathed by the jump.
“Jesus loves me,” she said out loud, her voice almost trancelike. Then she looked at Tanya. “What just happened doesn’t make sense. I jumped from a moving truck and I’m perfectly fine.” She paused for what seemed like nearly a minute. “Tanya,” she finally said, taking the sticker from her sleeve and holding it carefully in her hand. “It was a miracle what happened tonight. That’s why that man gave me this sticker. I think God knew what was going to happen, and he looked out for us.”
Tanya reached out and hugged her friend tightly. It was obvious that it would be a long time before the shock of what had happened that night would wear off. “How come you’re not cut up or hurt?” Tanya walked in a slow circle around Mia. “I mean, you don’t have a scratch on you!”
“I know … thank God.” Mia felt the sting of tears in her eyes. “It’ll be a New Year’s Eve I’ll never forget.”
Now It’s Your Turn …
You’ve had the chance to sort through A Treasury of Miracles for Teens and allow the stories to touch your heart. Now it’s your turn. The following section of blank pages is offered here for you, as a way for you to include your story among this treasury.
Some of you are nodding and reaching for a pen. The idea of writing the story of something special God has done for you is an easy one. But others of you are shaking your head, not certain you actually have a story. For you, I offer the following questions to jump-start your memory.
Have you ever had a super serious prayer request or need and then everything somehow worked out? If so, the problem, prayer, and solution is a story waiting to be written.
Have you ever witnessed something amazing or miraculous where one of your friends or family members was concerned? If so, this miracle story is worth putting down on paper.