Chasing a Dream: Sometimes Angels Appear

I awoke this morning thinking about how angels have appeared in my life from time to time.  They don’t realize they’re angels, and they probably never have a clue how much they impacted my life.  But, in fact, they are my angels without a doubt.  One of those was named Beverly (I am not adding her last name to protect her privacy).  Let me tell you about my Beverly angel.

My Beverly Angel

Sometimes angels just show up out of the blue...

Sometimes angels just show up out of the blue…

Beverly was a nurse with a heart of gold.  Not only was she a well-trained medical professional, but she always looked beneath the surface to discern emotional pain.  And, frankly, there were times in my life when I was overwhelmed with that.

In 1992, my daughter’s feet were cold—very cold—and there was no pulse at her groin or in her feet.  The possibility of amputations was very real, and I was alone… financially, physically, emotionally.  I was scared and worried and frantic.  Let me paint the picture for you:  I was a single mother who got NO support, NO help, NO government funds, NOTHING.  For many years, every vacation day I accrued was spent at the hospital or doctors’ offices.  I only earned 4 hours a month personal time, and that was just enough for one doctor visit—surely not enough for a kid who had a team of many physicians.  So we were facing extended hospitalization and recuperation to deal with her feet and legs.

My employer—Nissan—had a very strict policy with regard to absences:  beyond my 4 hours a month, I would receive no pay.  It didn’t matter that I was a single mother and could lose my home.  In the words of their HR representative, “That’s not our problem—it’s your problem.”  Somewhere along the way, Beverly heard of “my problem.”  Perhaps she heard because people were talking about how much time I spent crying at my desk.  Perhaps she heard because I was on a dangerous precipice between holding onto my sanity and completely losing it.  I’ll never know how she knew the kind of pain I was in.

My desk phone rang, and a sweet voice said, “Peggy, this is Beverly.  I’m going to come up to your area and I wanted to make sure you’re at your desk.  Are you going to be there for about five minutes?”  I said that I was.  “Well, then, I’m going to just stroll by your desk and whisper a few little words.  I don’t want you to look up or speak or even acknowledge I’m there.  I just want you to listen to the four little words I’m going to whisper.  Just LISTEN TO WHAT I’M GOING TO SAY.”  With that, Beverly hung up the phone.

Okay, I thought, I have no idea what that’s about, but… I can listen.  In a couple of minutes, sweet Beverly entered the front of the room, strolling by desks, greeting people, waving and being her natural friendly, sweet self.  And when she got to my desk, she slowed just a bit and whispered four little words:  “Medical Leave For Stress.”  Soon, she had passed my desk, and exited through the back stairwell.

Honestly, I sat with papers in front of me, trying to look as if I were occupied with work, but my mind was whirling.  Medical leave for stress.  Medical leave for stress.  MEDICAL LEAVE FOR STRESS!

Sometimes Just a Few Words Make All The Difference

I have to say that those few words saved my life.  Those few words allowed me to have medical leave during one of the most stressful and uncertain and scary times of my life when I most needed to be at the hospital with my daughter.  Having the foresight and courage to whisper those three words made Beverly my angel.

DREAM BIG!  It’s free.

Peggy!

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