Last month my friend Morgana Starr told me that she’s collecting angel stories for a new book she’s writing.  She didn’t want it to be a book just about her own experiences, but wanted to include other people’s stories as well.  She knows what healing comes from someone telling their story, especially when there is someone to point out the symbolism of it.  I did a post on my Facebook wall for friends to contact her if they have an angel story to share.  I later thought that I have an angel story of my own, so I emailed it to her. It was the first time I’d typed it out from my notes. I began with an intro and short bio.  Since it was my first writing of it, I wanted to tell the entire story. I knew if she wanted to use it, she’d want the word count edited down and I’d do that later. Here’s my angel story:  

My name is Andrea de Michaelis and I publish Horizons Magazine which is Florida’s mind/body/spirit magazine since 1992. I’m also a professional psychic medium, and my jobs are relevant to my story since I am long years in the genre of the mystical and the paranormal. I know that angels and ghosts exist and I also know that not every story that every person tells is true. That makes me a skeptic, as well.

I don’t tell angel stories. I don’t tell every time I receive unseen assistance or reassurance. I tell those only when I use them to illustrate a point. I know so many attention-seeking people, always telling grandiose stories of their paranormal adventures. I’m only interested in a story if it was something that made you rethink a segment of your life and make a change because of it. So here’s the first angel story I’ve ever put to paper.

In 2004, I was in the hospital over the Christmas holiday waiting to get my gall bladder out. I had a specific zero fat diet I was allowed, with no deviation or they could not do the surgery. So On Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, they scheduled and delivered the wrong meals to me, which I knew I couldn’t eat. Since a lot of the regulars had the holiday off, I could not find anyone with authority to get into the kitchen to bring me anything other than one jello. Finally on Christmas Day, being day 6 I hadn’t eaten anything other than clear broth for the initial five days and the one jello the day before, I called a friend to please bring me 2 bananas.

Even though they were not doing what should have been done and my surgery was being jeopardized because of what they were doing, I didn’t blame anyone for what was happening to me. I had a different mindset about it. The predominant thought that kept crossing my mind was that although it appeared that no one cared about me right then, God had it all under control. I’d been on morphine the entire week before, so my spidey sense was non-existent. But I figured it was a test and if I held faith and thought of a favorable outcome, I’d be fine getting through whatever I had to get through.

Morning comes and I’m wheeled into the prep room and I’m relaxed from the valium they’ve given me. It’s a pleasant bright white room and my glasses are off, so the scene is a little fuzzy and soft focus. I think it’s also the recovery room, as there are maybe a dozen other patients in beds at the other end of the room. Some of the nurses seem quite tall and moving in the same motions. My surgeon, Dr. Patrick Domkowski from Omni Medical Care in Palm Bay, walks over to say hello and I see that the very tall figure behind him is not a nurse but an angel, maybe 7.5 feet tall and she’s twice as wide as he is. So as he stands talking to me, she is behind him and he’s almost in silhouette because of her brightness, but he’s bright, too. Not a blinding white light, just a glow from inside but definitely enough to be noticed.

I can see she’s attached to him. The ones I saw earlier didn’t seem attached. As soon as I think “she’s attached to Dr. D,” she shows me the thought that he’s Catholic and he prays before surgery. I figured she was my sign that my faith was not in vain, since I held it when there was no evidence to support it. I held my faith even though there was evidence that things were not going my way. My surgery went fine, and as a result of it I changed my entire lifestyle and eating habits. I’ve never been healthier or happier.

When I saw Dr. D the next day, the angel was still with him. She smiled as though we had a secret. He asked how I was doing and told him I knew he was Catholic and prayed before surgery and thanked him. When I went for my follow up visit at his office two weeks later, I told him what I’d seen and how I knew. I told him I didn’t want to discuss it, I just wanted him to know. I got the sense he knows he’s covered.

I’ve had other encounters but wanted to relate one where other people were involved.  I often see the tall figures attached to a homeless-looking person holding a sign for a ride on I-95 or just walking down the street.  Highway 192 just east of I-95 is a corridor for homeless foot traffic and I travel it often.  About 2/3 of the time that I see a homeless person there, they have an angel attached, travelling several arm lengths behind.  Sometimes I see the angel before I see the person, if a car is in the way or it they are still in the bush, so I know the person isn’t far away.