Everything was quiet when I blinked awake in the darkness. My husband, Bob, was fast asleep beside me. But I’d heard someone call, “Mom!” I was sure of it. One of the kids, I thought, dragging myself out of bed. Probably just a nightmare.
I checked the rooms where my two younger daughters slept. Eight-year-old Elizabeth was fast asleep in her bed. So was 10-year-old Sarah. Cosmo, our Jack Russell, lifted his head from the living room sofa as I went up the stairs. “Shh, it’s okay,” I whispered. And it was. Fourteen-year-old Amy was in her upstairs bedroom, sleeping as peacefully as her sisters. “Guess it was my own nightmare,” I whispered to Cosmo as I passed by him again. “The girls are fine.”
There was one child I couldn’t check on, and I still hadn’t gotten used to that. My eldest, Matt, was finishing up his second year at Texas A&M in College Station, some 800 miles away from where we were living in Smyrna, Tennessee. Matt was due home for a visit the following night, but would soon return to Texas for a summer internship. I’d accepted his being away during the school year. Now I’d have to give him up for the summer too.
I hope he doesn’t miss his flight tomorrow, I thought as I slipped back into my bedroom. I knew Matt was old enough to take care of himself, but as a mother it was hard not to worry. He had trouble being punctual in the best of circumstances, and I knew he’d want to celebrate the end of finals. Packing would surely take a backseat. When he was at home I could remind him of the time, but with him far away in Texas…
“If one of the girls called out to me, she’s asleep now,” I whispered to Bob as I got back into bed. He didn’t answer. He’d missed the whole thing. I prayed myself back to sleep, calling on Matt’s guardian angel to check on him in my absence. I didn’t dare call the dorm at this hour.
I couldn’t have been sleeping long when I was awoken again. This time by a loud scream. I jumped up and looked at the clock. It was a little after 2 A.M.
“Did you hear that?” I asked Bob.
He listened with me for a long moment, but we heard nothing. “I must really be dreaming tonight,” I said. But I couldn’t settle myself down. I couldn’t get that scream out of my head. Again, I went out to the living room. This time, I scooped Cosmo up in my arms. Something wasn’t right.
Cosmo and I made the rounds. “Everybody’s fine here,” I said to him. So why did I feel so uneasy? That particular kind of uneasy of a mother for her child. If my three here were okay, that left only one who might be in trouble.
“God, please keep Matt safe,” I asked out loud in the darkness. “If he is in trouble, send his guardian angel. Send Michael, Gabriel, Raphael and all the heavenly host to come to his aid.” Only after I’d finished my prayer was I calm enough to go back to bed.
I woke up early, and it took several tries for me to reach Matt at the dorm. “I’m fine, Mom,” he said, his voice groggy with sleep.
Thank heavens! I must have been even more worried than I thought about Matt missing his flight. Enough to give myself nightmares. But whether warranted or not, fervent prayers for my growing son were never a bad idea.
Making his flight with plenty of time to spare, Matt arrived home late that night. As soon as he hugged me, I knew something was wrong. Instead of his usual tight, affectionate squeeze, he embraced me quickly with one arm, favoring his side. “It’s a long story,” he said when I asked him what happened. “I’ll tell you in the morning.”
“You will tell me right now,” I said. “Otherwise, I won’t sleep. Again!”
Little by little, it came out. Matt had gone to a party off-campus to celebrate the end of exams. While Matt and a friend were waiting outside for their ride back to the dorms, four young men approached, looking for trouble. “We tried to ignore them, but they were determined to pick a fight,” Matt said. “We went down pretty fast. I remember lying on the sidewalk, curled up, protecting my head while somebody kicked me.”
Matt paused and frowned, as if in confusion. “The next thing I knew, I was leaning on a car down the street. One second I was on the ground, the next I was yards away. I ran back over to my friend, who was talking with EMTs. I didn’t even see the ambulance arrive. I’m a little bruised and my friend needed stitches, but we’re okay.” Matt shook his head. “I just don’t understand how I got where I was. I asked my friend, but he couldn’t tell me either.”
“What time of night was this all happening?” I asked.
“Around two,” he said. “I watched the time because I didn’t want to be out too late. I had a plane to catch.”
Two o’clock. Perhaps Matt’s guardian angel had awakened me that night, calling for my prayers to alert all the angels in heaven to the situation before anyone was seriously injured. And as scary as things got, Matt deserved credit for good planning—not only about not staying out too late, but also in arranging for a ride home from the party. Maybe I’d never stop worrying about him completely. Maybe no mother could ever do that. But I could trust my son to make responsible decisions—and trust God to be with him while he did it. Even when he was far from home—and me—Matt was never far from angelic protection.
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