Magical things happen to me. And often friends are around to witness it. Take my latest trip to the mountains for a Holiday Festival. Small town. Lots of people. No parking. None. We drove around twice, when I stopped for Saint Nicholas to cross the street – no really, Saint Nicholas, complete with vestments, miter and crozier. He strode across the street, and when he came to the front of my car, he turned to us and blessed us with his staff.
I thought it was a sweet gesture, until I drove through the crosswalk and down the hill, only to find a parking space just waiting for us. And not just any spot, it was on the street that began the festival. My friend and I joked that clearly St. Nick blessed us with good parking.
We enjoyed tasty food, carol singers, Victorian costumed actors walking about town and roaring fire as we walked the small town square. I didn’t give St. Nick another thought.
Until I had dropped my friend off and was driving home. It was then I realized that although we saw many costumed actors, we never saw Saint Nicholas again.
My friend’s response, “Of course we didn’t see him. He was another one of your angels who just popped in to remind you. You knew that.” I guess I did.