Here’s an extract of a conversation that happened last night, on our way home from supper at Murray’s folks. Somewhere along Atterbury Road, the conversation somehow got onto angels, then went more or less like this:
Cam: Mom, can you show me a picture of angels in one of our photo frames on the wall?
Me: No love, we don’t have any photos of angels ‘cause we’ve never actually seen an angel; well, I s’pose not that we know of.
Cam: I’ve seen an angel.
Me: Really? When did you see an angel? [Humouring him…]
Cam: At Aunty Manty [Samantha]. When I was doing OT.
Silence. Grownup glances are exchanged.
Me: Um… Shoo. Wow. Really boy?
Me: Um – ok… What did the angel look like? What was it wearing?
Cam: He was as big as me. He was my size. He was wearing blue shorts and a red shirt.
More grownup glances, this time accompanied by simultaneous Holy-Spirit-type goose bumps and sceptical smiles.
Me: Wow. Um.
Murray: Was he at Aunty Manty’s house, boy? What was he doing?
Cam: Yes he was helping me do OT at Aunty Manty.
Me: What was he helping you with?
Cam: He was helping me ‘cause I had to find the holes on the paper for the pencil to go through and I couldn’t see the holes so well and he was helping me. [This was a visual therapy exercise Samantha did with him months ago.]
Immediate goose bumps. On reflection, tears.
Murray: And Cammy did Aunty Manty also see the angel?
Cam: No I don’t think so really; it was just me. I just saw the angel.
Murray: And did the angel say anything or was he just quiet?
Cam: No he was just quiet. I think it was a boy or a girl or whatever. He just helped me in the beginning when I just started OT and I was struggling with OT. He doesn’t help me anymore.
So call me a freak. I dunno. I cross-examined Cam this morning and looked for signs of fibbing. That’s his story and he’s sticking to it.
Was it his wild imagination? A subconscious response conjured by emotions? An imaginary friend? The brain's way of compensating for disability? A unique manifestation of God’s ever present help in trouble? Or maybe, an angel?
Murray and I were smiling silly, and quite emotional. Because whatever it was, we got to see Cam’s unquestioning, uncomplicated faith. I don’t suppose we’ll ever know what he saw, and as someone who generally errs on the side of scepticism I’m certainly not advocating that anyone builds their doctrine of supernatural beings around the account of a three-year-old. But I was reminded that one thing’s for sure:
Jesus loves me, this I know,
For the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to Him belong –
They are weak but He is strong.
Angelic manifestations or not, Cam is never, never alone.
‘For he will order his angels to protect you wherever you go.’ – Psalm 91:11
‘Don’t forget to show hospitality to strangers, for some who have done this have entertained angels without realising it.' - Hebrews 13:2