When I read the following story posted by a member on my free spiritual networking site, Psychic Knight, I had to share it here.
I’ll let the person who told it there tell it here in her own words. This is what she said.
“I was having a discussion with a colleague one day a few years ago about all things New Age and I got to thinking about angels. Whereas I had no doubts whatsoever as to their presence in my life, I had been reading a lot of stories of the, “I found a white feather” variety and got to feel, well not exactly aggrieved that I didn’t have one, but I did think it would be nice if I, as a believer, also was given a feather.
“With this in mind, I asked any angels present to let me have a feather. It was all very lighthearted and jokey. I hadn’t read anything that would suggest angels would be offended by such a request, nor would I suddenly disbelieve if I didn’t get my feather.
“Wandering around the town during my lunch break I decided that I would be open to receiving feathers. As I thought this, my eye was drawn to a shop window I was passing wherein a lovely greetings card with an angel drawn on it leapt out at me.
“I actually laughed aloud at this and said to myself and the angels, “Clever, but not what I want this time.”
“Another shop caught my eye, this time with a crystal angel on display. Still grinning I asked silently for a feather.
“Everywhere I looked that day there were angels, ornaments, cards, paintings . . . In the end I gave up looking, I’d spent the day amused and didn’t think that this was a bad result at all.
“Next morning I got up, having forgotten about the previous day’s jokeyness. Picking up the mail, I saw I had a copy of a free magazine which is full of interesting books on all things spiritual.
“Opening the magazine as I walked to the kitchen, I dropped it and it fell open at the centrefold which was a photograph of a white feather. I burst out laughing at this – indeed I’m smiling now remembering it – and said out loud, “Ok, I get the point.”
“At this, I felt something tickle my nose and brushed my hand over my face to knock whatever had caused it away.
“Opening my hand and nestling in my palm was the white feather I had asked for.
“This is a true story, by the way and I still have the feather.”
I absolutely love this story (and the way she tells it!). Do you have anything similar to tell?
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