Demons facts and storries

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Angels are part of the cultural landscape. You can see smiling cherubim and seraphim practically everywhere you look, especially around the Christmas season. Some people, however, believe that the presence of angels is much more tangible than the images found on holiday cards or wrapping paper, and more miraculous than most of us realize. Do angels exist? The authors of these tales would tell you with utmost certainty that they do because they've had personal, often astonishing experiences with them. Read their stories and decide for yourself.

Perfect Fit
It was the day before I was supposed to start my junior year of high school. It was a beautiful day outside but I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to notice. We didn't have much money. Everything I earned I gave to my parents. Just once, I wanted a new dress for the first day of school. I was pacing in my room feeling very depressed. Then I heard a voice say, "Why do you fret so? Remember the lilies of the fields. Are you not more important than they?"

I answered, "Yes." Then I felt very peaceful and happy. A few minutes later, I heard a car drive up and a lady talking to my mother. After the car drove off, my mother called me downstairs. The woman had a bag of clothes. She told my mother she had bought them for her daughter but her daughter didn't like them. She was going to throw the dresses away but had an overpowering urge to bring them to our house. We never saw that lady again. In the bag were five dresses. They still had the price tags on them. I'm very short—I have to hem everything. The dresses were my size and the right color for my complexion. Most surprising, I didn't have to hem them.—Anonymous

Calming and Beautiful Presence
My life has been hard and painful but because of my growing awareness of my spirit and God, it has transformed into a life of light and love. One encounter took place when I was 14. I was neglected by my single mom who had problems of her own and could not give me the love and nurturing every child deserves. I was pretty much fending for myself and found myself wandering some dark streets around 11 p.m., alone and frightened.

I had no idea where I was and was afraid of being raped—as I had been before—or hurt in some other way. My "friends" had abandoned me and left me to find my own way home. I was miles away with no money. I had my 10-speed bike with me, which I couldn't actually ride (I was intoxicated). Although I was usually pretty self-sufficient and never asked help from anyone, I was feeling very vulnerable. I was afraid. I had a strong feeling that if I didn't get some help soon, I would be in a very bad situation. I guess I prayed.

Soon after that, I saw a brightly illuminated, smiling young man emerge from one of the darkened houses on the lonely street. He said, "Hi, I'm Paul."

I found his presence calming and beautiful. He said he wanted to help me. That's all I remember. The next thing I knew, I woke up in my bed at home with no idea how I got home or how my bike got home with me. All I know is, I have a warm, glowing feeling every time I think about my angel, Paul. —Anonymous

Heavenly Escort
When I was a student nurse back in the early 1980s, I was responsible for taking care of a middle-aged lady who was dying of leukemia. She was a lonely soul. Her daughters didn't much care for her and her husband rarely visited. (He already had a new woman in his life.)

One evening, after making my patient comfortable, I glanced out of the window and saw a figure in the gardens. As I tried to look more closely, the figure seemed to fade out, becoming unfocused. I put it down to tiredness and dismissed the whole episode.

As time progressed and my patient declined, the figure appeared more and more regularly. I told some colleagues about it and they laughed, saying that I had an over-active imagination. Each day, I would look through the window and if the figure was there, and I would wave a greeting.

One day arriving on the ward I went to my patient, only to find the bed empty. My lady friend had died in the night. I worried that she had been frightened and alone. Looking through the same window in days to follow, I never saw that figure again. I can take comfort in believing this being was probably my patient's guardian angel who was waiting to escort her from this life to a place of peace and happiness.
—M. Seddon

Alive for Now
My guardian angel showed himself in a real body. When I was in seventh grade, the first boyfriend I had ever had died. It took me by surprise and sent me into a hole of depression that I could hardly ever be dragged out of. In the ninth grade, I was sexually assaulted by a guy I thought was a friend. That just further added to my sadness, and that night I tried to commit suicide.

My best friend, whom I'd known since second grade, came to the realization that I needed help. He told me that life would eventually get better, even if it was very bad at the time. He came to prove it to me later on. We became better friends than we ever had been. We were able to read each other's thoughts.

He once promised me that he would always be by my side, forever. He said he would watch over me, dead or alive. That was when I asked him if he was my guardian angel. For a minute, there was a very strange look on his face, and finally he said, "Yes."

He gave (and still gives) me advice on what to do, and always has a way of finding out what will happen next. I recently found out that he is dying of a fatal heart disorder. It is crushing me inside, but all I can hope for him is heaven, where he came from, and where his sacred spirit belongs. —Anonymous

Helping Hands
In the summer of 1997, we got our daughter Sarah a new twin mattress for her bunk bed. I had taken it upstairs and was trying to get the old one down. Our stairs can be hazardous, so I kept saying to myself, "Kristy, be careful." My husband is disabled and hasn't worked in over four years, and without my income we'd be on the streets.

When I was upstairs, I looked out at the happy sight of my three children playing with their German Shepherd, "Sadie," and their daddy keeping a close eye on them. When I started to move the old mattress down the stairs, I slipped and lost my footing, and I began to fall. Thousands of thoughts raced through my mind in that split-second. "What will happen if I break my leg or worse?" I said. "Please, dear God, help me. Send me an angel."

Well, I got not just one, but two. I felt two strong, masculine arms grab me and reach under my arms and pull me up, and I felt a second set of hands grab my ankles and push me firmly back on the stairs. Then I looked and, lo and behold, the mattress was at the bottom of the stairs placed neatly and upright against the wall.

I went outside to ask my husband if he'd been in the house and he said, "No." And surely he doesn't have two sets of arms. My brother has good luck "channeling" angels. He informed me it was Michael who grabbed under my arms and Uriel who grabbed my ankles. —Kristy

Healed by an Angel
I was shopping at the local department store with my 1-year-old son when the following happened: As I was looking at some product on the shelves, a computer hutch fell from a desk and struck my infant's head. The hutch bounced off his head and landed loudly next to the cart he was in. I watched in horror as the force of the blow snapped my young child's head back violently. He sat there dazed for a few moments then started to cry out in pain.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how badly he was hurt. He wasn't bleeding, but what about internal damage? I just stood there consoling my child, hoping that he was okay.

An elderly African-American gentleman tapped me on the shoulder. He was wearing a brown raincoat and hat and had a Bible tucked under his arm. "May I pray for him?" he asked. I just nodded my head mutely. He placed his hand on my son's head and prayed quietly for a few minutes. When he was done, my son stopped crying. I gave my son a big hug and turned around to thank the gentleman—but he was gone. I searched the aisles to find him, but he was nowhere. He'd disappeared into thin air. I had my son X-rayed the next day and he turned out to be fine...thanks to my guardian angel. —Myrna B.

An Angel Opened My Door
Many years ago, I was driving my daughter and some other children to school. I pulled up across the street from the entrance (as so many cars were pulling in the driveway), and I got out and to help them all across the street, not realizing I had closed and locked my door. Frantic, I tried every door, but to no avail. I ran into the school to get a coat hanger and ran out to the car, which by now was idling very fast. I remember saying, "Oh, dear God, help me please!"

In that split-second, a man dressed in what looked like 19th-century clothes approached and said, "Looks like you need some help." He didn't talk anymore, but in a minute he had the lock popped with the coat hanger.

"Thank you so much!" I said. I was so happy. I reached into my car to give him some money, which took all of a second, and when I looked up, he was gone! I looked all around in every direction. I should have seen him walking away because the area was very open and he couldn't have disappeared that fast. I know it was an angel—my guardian angel, I think, and I will never think anything else as long as I live.
—Patricia N.

An Angel in Disguise
My father was a cross-country truck driver and my mother was frequently on her own. My mother was a beautiful but fragile blue-eyed lady with long, soft blonde hair. I describe her because it's important to the story. When I was 4, my mother decided to take a night job. She usually stayed home with my 6-year-old brother and me. She hated leaving us but we need the extra income, so she found a babysitter, and feeling a bit apprehensive, went to work.

I can't even remember the babysitter's name because she was not with us long. My brother, Gerry, and I were sent upstairs to bed that evening, and, as many little kids do, we fought sleep and paid more attention to what was going on downstairs. Our babysitter's boyfriend had come over and soon we realized that she had left with him. My brother tried to reassure me when I began to cry. I remember him leaving the hallway light on and saying mom would be home soon, but I was terrified.

As I lay in my bed, I looked toward the hallway, and in the doorway stood my mother. I could see her long, blonde hair and the concern in her eyes. She said something soothing—I can't remember the exact words—and she came over to the bed, took me in her arms and rocked me to sleep. I remember feeling so secure and safe in her arms.

In the morning I could hear my mother rattling around in the kitchen. I got up and went down to greet her, still feeling secure and safe. When I got to the kitchen she greeted me with the usual, "Good morning, Sunshine!" Then she asked, "Where is the babysitter?" When I replied that I was so glad that she had come home last night when I was so scared, her eyes got big and she became concerned. She had just arrived home. Who rocked me to sleep?

I often think of that night and I now think an angel took my mother's appearance and calmed me down. For me it was the beginning of knowing that someone watches over me. Many times I have felt that presence, but I never saw my mother's face on an angel again. —Deane

Angels in the Clouds
I was living in a small town in Texas. To unwind after work, I would always take a drive out in the country, traveling mostly on back roads. This activity was heightened in the summer months when I could watch the many mighty thunderstorms pass through the area.

One evening I was heading west toward the sunset (unsurpassed in Texas) with a weak thunderstorm moving in just north of the setting sun. The two natural phenomena together were such a beautiful sight with such a gorgeous deep color that I stopped my car and stepped outside to get a better view. My attention was caught at once by a gray patch of scud clouds drifting in from the storm that were illuminated by the sun's rays.

I could see the forms of a whole host of angels. This was more than a case of a vivid imagination. I saw such detail of every angel's face. I could see their profiles and their hair, and their wings. It was as if they were using the cloud vapor to show themselves to me. It was so real. It was not my imagination. —Angelhdhipster

Blue Angel in the Wall
I've lived in a very abusive, very uncaring, very unemotional, very messed up family all my life. I believe I have an angel that sometimes comes to comfort me, or sends others to help me when I'm at my darkest moments.

The first time I saw my angel, I was around a year old. I was at a huge family get-together with five generations of my mom's family. I was passed off in the living room with some family members who didn't care about me and acted like I wasn't there. I was positioned in front of a wall with my back toward everyone.

I learned early on to try my best not to make any noise while the TV was on, so I wouldn't get into any more trouble. I remember sitting directly in front of a wall, and I couldn't take my eyes off of it. I felt like I was being pulled into place and held in front of the wall. I had been staring at the wall for a while when I saw a figure in the wall. It was a man's face with shoulders and wings in the background. Every part of him had a light bluish tint to it. He had a very pretty face and he looked like he was in his 20s. His eyes were a darker shade of blue than the rest of him and he had medium-long hair flowing around him.

This may sound like I'm describing a female, but I knew it was male. He was smiling and giggling with me as I smiled and giggled back. He had the most gorgeous wings, and when he giggled his wings fluttered up and down. I couldn't talk much or understand many words, but he "told" me—like he was sending a message directly into my mind—that everything would be okay. —Tasha

Angel at My Bedside
On the morning of March 31, 1987, around 3 a.m. as I slept alone in my apartment, I was roused by three very gentle tugs on my bedcovers near the foot of the bed. I had the covers up around my neck, which is how I always sleep. I did not awaken but I was aware of something. I guess I fell back to sleep but the same three gentle tugs came again. I was roused again but did not open my eyes.

The third time the tugging happened, I was awake enough to turn around to my right and open my eyes. What I saw was the most beautiful man standing by the bedroom wall. He stood very straight and his arms were straight down by his side. He had to have been almost eight feet tall. (I say that because the ceilings in that apartment were at least that high, and he almost reached them.) A white light surrounded him from head to foot. All I could see of his skin were his hands and face, which were a dark bronze color. He was not looking at or facing me, he was facing my open living room door.

As I stared at him, I could see he was wearing the most beautiful long white robe. There was a sash around his waist of the same color, about six inches wide. The white robe was a shade of white so beautiful that I'd never seen anything like it before. He also had a white turban wrapped around his head covering all of his hair. What a beautiful face he had!

He said, "Do not be afraid. It is the voice of God. Read Isaiah, man of the patient realm."

I don't know how he got from the wall to the side of my bed, but somehow he was right there. He reached out his mighty arms and bent over as if he were going to pick me up—which is exactly what he did.

All of a sudden, I felt as if I was just a little baby, cradled in the arms of her mother, wrapped in a warm blanket. Then I heard a noise that sounded like a whizzing sound, and we were moving in that sound.

Then we were standing on very rich and beautiful earth, which somehow I could feel with what seemed now to be my bare feet. We were in what seemed like a marketplace of some kind. There were others walking around like him, in the same white robes; some were alone and some were walking in twos. We were facing a booth that resembled a booth at a carnival. Inside the booth were three rows of large, hand-crafted vessels. He was standing on my right side and said, "Choose something."

"I don't have any money," I told him.

He answered, "You don't need money here. Everything is free."

At that point, I remember hearing the same whizzing sound and again, we seemed to be moving at a great speed. We were standing by the same side of my bed again. He leaned over very slowly with me in his arms, and gently placed me back into my body with great care.

I could now feel my body in the bed, and he was gone.

I thought about it for a while because it happened so fast. Then, I got up out of bed and turned on a nightlight to write down, "Isaiah, man of the patient realm." For the next few days, I read the book of Isaiah. I found out that God is real. He'd heard all my cries for help and had given me proof that he was indeed there.