When I was little, my mother took me to have my “aura” photographed. The photo showed a bright light near my ear, and the woman who took it told my mom that it was an angel whispering to me.

That memory stayed with me and made me feel protected.

**You can stop reading here if angels aren’t your thing.. I promise I won’t be offended!

But for as long as I can remember, I’ve believed that certain people enter our lives exactly when we need them most, so I call them angels.

As a child, I always seemed to have someone looking out for me. Someone who wasn’t family or a family friend, just a kind-hearted person who noticed a little girl who needed care. Maybe it was my cute speech impediment from not being able to hear during my early years, or maybe my big blue eyes and look of innocence, or maybe it was something else entirely.

One of my first angels was a young pre teen named Ashley, my prayer partner at school when I was in preschool. She was about eight years older than me and stayed in my life long after the program ended. She took time out of her days to spend them with me and to make me feel special. My favorite memory is when she took me to the mall to create my first and only build a bear. She was a sweet in nature individual and so kind hearted.

Then there was Timmy, my best friend from the time I was six years old. He was one of the greatest gifts of my childhood. He gave me pure joy, laughter, and a lifetime of memories packed into our early years. I can’t imagine childhood without him.

In August 2009, Timmy passed away when he was 17.

Even though we had lost touch as teenagers, I always believed he would be part of my life forever. Losing him left me devastated and I felt painfully alone in life. I didn’t understand how life could give you something so special, so connective, to only to take it away.

Exactly one year later, I met my first boyfriend – Brian.

He quickly became my best friend and my other half. I felt deep in my bones that he was a gift from Timmy. A reminder that I could create new memories with someone else, and that love could be just as meaningful again. I will always be grateful for Brian, just as I will always be grateful for Timmy. Two great young men who showed me genuine, true love.

Four years later, I felt an intense need to understand the world more deeply and find my independence. That’s when life started hitting harder and faster.

After Brian and I broke up, I had probably one or two years where I was single and was living with no one else’s expectations of me. But I stupidly entered a relationship with someone who I thought was very persistent about us being together. This was no angel, it was the full work of the devil. He drained every ounce of my peace and energy. It took everything I had to leave. That experience shattered my trust in people and introduced me to a cruelty I didn’t know existed.

The very day I ended that relationship, I flew with a woman I felt instantly connected to, even though we had just met. I opened up to her entirely. She listened, comforted me, and told me exactly what I needed to hear. She carried me through that day.

One year later, I flew with her again for the first time since that day on the same week we flew together the year prior. Seeing her brought back every emotion from that dark moment but also the overwhelming realization of how far I had come. When she asked how I was, I told her I was so much better. Saying that out loud felt like closure. I could remember the devastation and heartbreak I shared with her one year ago, and I felt none of that in my heart the day we met again. I thought, “Wow, I survived. Look at me now, I am more than OK. I am better, much better than what I was.” The hindsight of the moment brought me great gratitude and self assurance that I can thrive after facing setbacks.

Not long after, my parents announced they were separating to me around Valentines Day, after 30 years of marriage. I was heartbroken for them and overwhelmed by the changes ahead. And of course, I had to go to work that day. That’s when I met another angel. A woman who listened as I talked about my family and somehow knew exactly what to say to make the weight lighter. Again, one year later from this moment, I passed her in the Salt Lake City airport with Valentines Day decorations wrapped around us, and I starred at her with familiarity. At first, I couldn’t place her. Then it all came rushing back like a detailed story. In an instant, I remembered how lost I had felt when I saw her last, and how those feelings were now gone. I smiled and silently thanked whoever had given me that moment to reflect on my progress over the past year.

At that point, life felt frantic as I continued to find my independence. I buried myself in work, roommates, and friends in Boston. One random night, after a particularly stressful day, my debit card stopped working. Panic consumed me as I tried to figure out how I would get to work the next morning as I walked home from the train stop.

As I walked my neighborhood in my uniform, spiraling, a man stopped me and asked if I was coming back from work. He and the two others he was with all worked for a different airline. He casually mentioned that I could take the car rental shuttle to commute and that it was free and only a few blocks away.

I was stunned. A shuttle was a five-minute walk from my apartment, and I never knew? It’s free? Prayer’s answered. Problem solved.

My heart and breathing calmed. I whispered thank you to the angel in my ear.

By this time, I decided I was done dating. Completely. It seemed like an extra obstacle course I didn’t want to participate in. So I focused on myself, my family, and my friends. But my family’s struggles grew heavier, and I felt like I was intentionally carrying everyone else’s pain.

Then I met Jeremy on one random day. He was handsome, sweet, reserved.

I don’t think Jeremy is a gift, I think he became an angel.

He restored my faith in people through his character. He rebuilt my trust through his actions. He taught me patience and showed me what it feels like to be loved gently. I may want to strangle him from time to time, but he is exactly who I needed then and who I need now. I love him more every day, and I think it’s because gratitude keeps growing alongside that love. He has brought me stability and safety in this unpredictable life.

One last angel story for now.

In December 2017, my sister was in a serious car accident while she was far from home in Australia. My father received a voicemail from her that sounded like it had been left moments after the accident. She was in shock. She said she believed her leg was detached. After that, we couldn’t reach her again. We couldn’t get in touch with her husband or anyone nearby to confirm whether help had arrived. We were thousands of miles away, helpless, imagining the worst.

Desperate for answers, I turned to a Facebook group called Girls Love Travel, a global community of women from all over the world. I posted asking if anyone was in the area or had seen or heard anything about an accident.

That’s when Rita reached out.

Rita, an angel – told me that her neighbor was actually one of the first police officers on the scene of my sister’s accident. Through phone calls with her neighbor, Rita was able to relay real-time information to my family. She told us that my sister was alive, that she was being cared for, and that help had arrived. In the darkest moments of uncertainty, Rita brought us light.

Rita and my sister stayed in touch long after that day, maintaining a bond that began in a moment of crisis. Another reminder that angels don’t always disappear once their work is done. I was the first person in my family able to fly to my sister. The day before Christmas Eve, I boarded a flight from LAX to Sydney. We spent Christmas in the hospital, sitting beside her bed with a small Christmas tree and flowers surrounding her.

She had almost lost her life, but thanks to the quick response of first responders and doctors, she was stable. The road ahead was long but she was alive.

A year after the accident in December, I worked with a man named François. He mentioned he was flying LAX to Sydney on December 23rd. Instantly, memories flooded back because I too, had taken that same flight the year before to see my sister in the hospital.

This time, though, I didn’t need to vent. My sister was healing. My perspective of what healing meant was different than it was when my previous angels visited. François didn’t know it, but he reminded me of every angel who had crossed my path. And once again, I felt overwhelming gratitude for the people who appeared exactly when I needed them, and for the reminder of how far I’ve come through the roller coaster of life. It has also motivated myself to be an angel to those in small ways through out my day. We truly do not know the moments someone will remember about us or why, but even helping in the slightest way can expand’s someone’s mind enough to help them on the road to healing.

Maybe angels don’t always have wings.

Maybe sometimes, they just show up and give you directions.