Let me tell you a story…

I go for a walk every evening. I stay in an apartment surrounded by lush gardens and huge trees—walking here is a delight.

I see an assortment of people on my walk. The old couple who always walks hand in hand. Screaming kids. Weary mothers. The fast walker who never pauses. Birds. Flies. Puzzled dogs.

And there I am, a lost walker, on the phone, talking to a friend. I turn a corner and see a woman smiling at me. I smile, too. She says something and walks over. I pause. I don’t know her at all. I have never seen her before, standing next to a blue car.

The first few minutes of this conversation are blurred in my memory. But I remember the rest clearly.

“What do you do?” she asks. “I work in mental health,” I reply.

Her face lights up. “Come, please,” she says and walks me over to a bench. My friend is still on the phone, wondering what’s happening.

Bewildered, I do. I sit. And we talk.

Dr. A tells me about a sister who has “mental health” issues and her abusive marriage. Reveals that she has done her PhD. In quantum physics. Gulp. But as Dr. A speaks, I am lulled. There’s a quiet grace to her. A lilt of compassion. She holds my hand, tracing the palm lines. And then she looks up and says, “Don’t make assumptions so easily.”

I want to fall back in shock. If you ask my friend (who is still on the phone and listening in), she will tell you that I have a habit of forming assumptions too quickly. It’s an awful habit that I struggle with. Here’s this stranger, who has been speaking to me for 5 minutes, telling me that.

We speak. About life. Love. Prayer. Mental well-being. Dr. A sighs. “Aah, mental health, Smitha,” she says. “You must continue that work. It’s so important.”

I nod.

And then, she pats me on the head, a soothing touch I didn’t know I needed. “I will bless you.”

She gets up, places her palms on my head, and bows. “Your wishes will come true. Be at peace,” she adds.

I nod skeptically, but I am moved. By the gift of offering me that prayer.

“Will I see you again?” I ask.

“Maybe. Maybe not. We meet people in strange ways.”

How can we not see each other, I wonder. We stay here. But I don’t. It’s been a month, and even though I walk here every day at the same time, I haven’t met Dr. A again.

Sometimes, life sends us angels. She may not know it, but those words of comfort she offered me were just what I needed when I was tired of life itself.

There’s beautiful work left to be done, she reminded me. I am on it, I want to tell her. Beautiful work it is.

Who are the angels in your life? I hope you will send some gratitude their way today.