Debbie Core's friend Doris Marshall was scheduled for open heart surgery in February 2004. The women had been friends for over thirty years, and had shared both good and difficult times. "I stayed with her in the hospital the night before the surgery," Debbie says. "We talked all night, and we prayed. Doris said that if she didn't make it, she was ready to go home to God." Debbie didn't want to consider that possibility. She and Doris had many more years they wanted to share.
The surgery was a success, and a few days later---Valentine's Day---Debbie visited Doris again. All seemed normal, except that Doris felt exceptionally cold, especially in her hands. "Here," Debbie said, reaching into her coat pocket, "you can have my gloves."
"No, it's cold out--you'll need them," Doris protested. Actually, she was right. Debbie was having chronic car trouble, especially with her brakes, and was always expecting the car to break down completely and leave her stranded somewhere in the snow. But she kept asking Jesus to keep her safe until she could get the money to repair the car--and so far He had done so. In any event, she put her black gloves on her friend's cold hands. "They were stretchy-type gloves I had just bought from the Dollar Store, no big deal," Debbie explains. "I was glad I could do something for her." The women talked and laughed some more, and then Debbie went home. It was the last time the two women were together. Doris died suddenly a few days later.
Debbie was devastated. She went to the funeral, but even the rendition of one of her favorite songs, "Serenaded by Angels" was not enough to comfort her. What would life without Doris be like? She thought back to their conversation on the night before surgery, how Doris had said she was ready to meet God, if this was the right time. Was Doris in heaven? How could she be sure?
About a month later, Debbie had enough money to pay for her car repairs, so she dropped the vehicle off. Soon the service man phoned Debbie at work. "Are you sitting down?" he asked.
"Yes," Debbie answered. "Why?"
"Because you'll be shocked when I tell you that you had only about 30% of your brakes still functioning, and one of the belts is cracked, and...." He continued with a litany of problems, any one of which could have caused a major accident. Debbie heard herself praising and thanking God. He had surely been looking out for her.
God, and perhaps one of her friends. "I picked up the car that afternoon, got in behind the wheel and drove away," Debbie says. "It was running so beautifully, and I started to praise God again." Then, from the corner of her eyes, she saw something lying on the floor. At the next red light, she leaned over and picked up the object. Black gloves. HER stretchy black gloves, from the Dollar Store, the ones she had put on Doris's cold hands the night before she died. Debbie had never thought to try and retrieve them from the hospital. But how had they gotten here, inside her car?
"I have thought about it," she says today, "and I am sure that an angel put those gloves in my car. I had met someone who was cold and I had helped her to be warm--just like the Bible asks us to do. And I think God was letting me know that as I helped Doris, He helped me." And perhaps it was a signal from Doris too, to let her friend know that she was home, safe in God's arms. "I don't know if this story will help anyone," Debbie says, "but it has helped me, and I will forever be thankful for his angels."
Apr 17, '04
Thank you for sharing.
Apr 17, '04
Thank you again.............................