Sometimes amazing miraculous events occur that defy logic. Twenty six years ago an amazing experience happened to me. The year was 1988 when I was protected and guided by Angels through the streets of London, England. It was in the middle of the night and I was six months pregnant with my daughter Katie.
I was returning from Greece at the end of a hot and event filled summer with my husband and in laws. This was in the days when we didn’t carry cell phones, and my travels took me through London both ways, for a couple days each, on route to and from America.
My husband’s friends who lived in England were to pick me up at Heathrow Airport that night, and transport me to a flat I had visited on the way to Greece, two months prior. I only had twenty dollars in my pocket because I was going to pick up some more travel money with the friends who I was meeting. The first time I had traveled to that flat (an apartment) I had taken a taxi cab from the airport. I walked around the lovely neighborhood; briefly visited a lovely park and local Chinese restaurant where I was sure I’d seen rock star David Bowie pass me by on the sidewalk.
This time I was arriving late at night to London. I didn’t have a phone number to call in case the people who were meeting me forgot or there was a mistake made. I also didn’t have a phone number to call in Greece where my husband still visited, because he and the family were at a beach house with no service. What I did have in my pocket was a key to the door of the flat I had stayed in two months ago. But I didn’t have an address of the door it fit in. Not bringing an address or phone number of where I was going to in England, was an oversight we’d all made when I left Greece. The friends who were to pick me up at the airport didn’t show up, so instead of panicking I began to cling to the fact that I had a key to a place to stay, in my pocket.
After a couple hours of waiting in the airport lobby, heart sinking, I approached the help desk and inquired as to which underground train I could take that would get me to “Queensway”. Queensway was the name of a road I remembered that the building I stayed in was near. I also described a park I’d visited, with tall white pillars at the entrance. These two general “facts” were the only memories I’d salvaged about a direction to the flat. A woman at the help desk informed me that there were at least four parks near a Queensway, and that the Underground was downstairs. She pointed to an exit door. She said that this door would take me to a train which would take me to Queensway. She did not tell me which train to take.
I dragged my heavy suitcase downstairs to the underground and entered the tunnels to wait for a train. I befriended a young woman who stood there nearby, and she directed me to a train that would take me to “a Queensway”. I was relieved to see she was getting on the same train she told me to take, so I sat with her. Being pregnant and alone in a strange country with no one to contact in this situation had created significant anxiety for me by this point in time. I felt that I needed someone to contact in case I became horribly lost. She was resistant at first to tell me anything about her, but as she got to know me, and as I told her more about myself she finally decided to take a risk and give me her phone number.
As we approached one of multiple stops, she said “This is Queensway. If you go upstairs you can find a taxi” and look around. “Leap and the net will appear!” I told myself, and immediately arose to exit the underground as she directed. I thanked her profusely for her help and for trusting me with her phone number.
I decided to trust that I was safe and somehow knew everything was going to be okay. Other than asking friendly strangers for assistance with directions based on my general visual memory (of an apartment I’d visited by taxi from the airport over two months ago), and following intuition, I had nothing to go on. So, I stood in line among other people standing in line, in the darkness of night, with my heavy suitcase, nauseous with pregnancy, waiting for a taxi.
When it was my turn I got inside a black old fashioned looking vehicle with a high seat in the back end. The driver sat on the “wrong” side of car and drove down the “wrong” side of the road. Everything felt backwards, opposite, unfamiliar, and confusing. I was feeling super vulnerable by now. “Please drive around and I will let you know when to stop” I said. I needed to recognize anything at all. The driver didn’t seem very concerned and did as I asked. He began to drive down numerous dark and empty streets, slowly, so I could look around. I thought I recognized the Chinese restaurant I’d eaten at and had seen David Bowie.
I took a chance this was the one, although I am terrible with names, and asked the driver to let me out so I could walk from the restaurant to see if walking from there would trigger my memory about which direction to head in. I wasn’t even sure this was actually the restaurant. It was one o’ clock in the morning, the roads were empty and I was alone, dragging my heavy suitcase down the middle of the street and hoping I was going in the right direction! I saw a series of dead end streets and paused. This looked a little familiar. I thought of the key in my pocket, it would fit a lock to a door of a flat. I was going to find that door; I was determined to find it. I was not going to give up on looking for the flat. I was going to keep looking until I found a door that fit my key. Yes, this was an unrealistic thought process I had going on, and I knew it was a long shot! I actually knew little to nothing about London, England. I had never even been on an underground train before that night, or explored the city on my own at all. I had paid little attention to names and places when touring around with friends the first time. I avoided beating myself up for not paying better attention to those details before.
I saw there were multiple apartment buildings off the main roadway on these dead end streets. I chose a street, the second street. They all looked similar to each other, yet I was drawn to the second little cul-de-sac because a tall grey apartment building at the end of the road looked like the building I remembered. My suitcase was so heavy that I could only drag it and pause, then lift it for a second, and sit it down. I tried not to strain myself because I was pregnant. I stopped to rest often. I was going in little intervals of stop and start along the dark sidewalk toward the grey apartment building. A second story window framed a small bouquet of yellow daffodils. The flowers appeared to shine a little extra brightly, so I moved to a door below where they were located and pulled the key out of my jeans pocket. I squinted to find the lock, as I navigated by moonlight only, and to my joy, shock, surprise, relief and near disbelief – the key fit!
I entered a hallway and went up a flight of stairs to a small flat where my friends had just returned from the wrong airport. While I had arrived at Heathrow Airport, they had mistakenly gone to get me at Gatwick. Nobody had known what to do or what the mistake had been, yet. We didn’t have mobile phones or even numbers to call to find each other. Yet here I was at their doorstep!
Reviewing this crazy adventure, I have no doubt in my heart, mind and soul that this was a real miracle.
It’s incredible how I somehow managed to choose the correct train to the correct Queensway stop, to the correct taxi, which drove me around until I found the correct place to get out of the taxi, to walk immediately in the correct direction to a correct street to the correct building. I was stressed, pregnant, lugging a heavy suitcase, in a foreign country, in the middle of the night; and the first door I tried with my key, was the correct door!
I am completely sure an Angel was protecting me and guiding me through this. I never got lost. I never had to use the phone number the woman gave me, or ask directions of anyone after I left the airport. There were no mistakes, I simply went to where I was guided and found the flat.
Twenty six years later, I send out my gratitude for guidance that night. Even more now than at the time, because I see more clearly what a blessing and a gift this was. I didn’t have money to stay somewhere at the time and I needed to find my friends. It was a miracle.
We are guided, all a part of a grand divine design, and need only remember those times when we are shown this so.
May the light of your soul guide you and bless the work that you do
(¯` ´¯). *
`*.¸.* ´* peace * ´¯`•.¸¸. Love
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