The Night I Almost Ran Over an Angel (Probably)
Alright, so I can’t prove this happened, and you can’t disprove it—but honestly, that’s beside the point. I’ve decided to believe that I almost ran over an angel with my sled tonight. And really, isn’t that more fun to believe anyway?
So, here’s how it all went down.
Tonight, a whole squad of us—teens, some adults, and Colton, who was absolutely living his best life—went sledding at my friend Tricia’s house. We were out there for a solid two hours, laughing, crashing into each other, and generally flirting with mild hypothermia. About 10 to 15 minutes before we were ready to call it quits, this other couple and their kid showed up to do some sledding. No big deal—except for the part where I almost plowed into the woman while Isaac and I were doing the brilliant thing of playing chicken, launching our sleds diagonally from opposite sides of the hill. (Note to self: sledding + chicken = potential ER visit.)
Anyway, we finished up, piled back into the cars, and headed to Tricia’s house for pizza and hot chocolate, which honestly is the only reason to sled in the first place. That’s when it happened.
One of the teens, Zorina, suddenly freezes and exclaims, “I can’t find my keys!” Now, this isn’t the kind of thing you can laugh off because, oh no, she had her only set of keys in her pocket while sledding. You could see it all over her face—the panic, the sheer dread. “My mom is going to KILL me,” she said, with the wide-eyed terror of someone who’s mentally preparing their own funeral arrangements.
While most of the kids were stripping off their snow gear and heading in for food, I stayed in the garage with Zorina and Aaryn, trying to strategize. I started with the classic adult “worst-case scenario” speech, which, shocker, did not help. So, I offered to drive her back to the hill to look for 20 minutes. That’s it. Twenty minutes. Aaryn tagged along for moral support.
On the way there, I told Zorina she had to pray since I was driving. She gave it a shot—short, a little desperate, and honestly kind of funny. But let’s be real, we’ve all been there, asking Jesus for help when it’s clearly our own dumb fault. I mean, I once locked all four sets of my car keys in my car at the same time, so I’m not exactly qualified to judge.
As we approached the hill, I started my own prayer: “God, you could do this in five minutes. Or two hours. Or 30 seconds. Or you could just let her suffer the consequences and learn a lesson. But whatever happens, just show up. Let it be clear that this is You.”
It’s right about then that Zorina says, “Hey, what’s that?”
There it was. A stick, standing in the snow, with a pink glove perched on top like a little flag of victory. And hanging from that stick? Her keys. HER KEYS. We had been looking for maybe 30 seconds. Within two minutes, we were back in the car, driving back to Tricia’s house with Zorina riding the biggest relief high of her life.
And that’s when I started getting suspicious.
What if… that couple that showed up right before we left were actually angels? Think about it. They arrived just before the keys went missing. They were gone when we got back—not even 20 minutes later. It’s almost like they showed up to make sure we’d notice them, found the keys, left them in the most obvious place possible (complete with a pink glove flag), and then peaced out as soon as the mission was complete. No names, no car description, no way to track them down. Just… done. Job finished.
We got back, and Zorina told the story. Aaryn backed her up. It was wild listening to other people retell a story you just lived. When I got home and told Erin about it, she even asked me, “Are you sure that’s how it happened? No tricks? No pranks?” Nope. Just plain old good people… or maybe not just people.
I’m sticking with the angel theory. The Bible literally says this kind of thing happens:
“Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.” — Hebrews 13:1-3
And you know what? If you’re going to believe in miracles, you might as well believe in sledding angels.
That said, I’m also very glad I didn’t actually take out an angel with my sled. Pretty sure that would have made the Book of Revelation way more complicated.
