Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.
Once in a while you run into a person that lights up your world. I met such a lady this past weekend while strolling up a path beside New River. Her name was Mary, but she said her special friends call her Bunny. Not Bonnie, but Bunny. That’s what her Daddy nicknamed her when she was a little tike.
Mary was looking for somewhere to pull her teardrop camper this summer. I think to myself, funny that she has a teardrop camper because I mention them in my next novel, The River Keeper. But I keep quiet and don’t say anything.
She then proceeds to ask my husband, Jerry and I about the campground and we cheerfully fill her in. Telling her that New River Campground is the next best place this side of heaven she’ll ever want to lay her head. As we talk she and I realize we have a lot in common, an old soul connection that can’t be put into words. My husband sort of rolls his eyes as he listens to us.
When she tells me she is sixty-eight years old I can’t believe it. She is vibrant with a beauty that will never succumb to the years. She said she couldn’t wait to float down the New on an inner tube and ride her bike up and down the campground road. But she said what excited her most was she’d get to meet new and fascinating people.
She said she had ventured out that morning looking for something and the Lord had led her to the New River Campground. When my husband told her I was an author, she automatically said: I want to buy your books. And she did! She even wanted to give me a ten-dollar tip. Of course I didn’t take it.
As Mary pulled away from our camping lot the thought crossed my mind that I just might have entertained an angel. For real, there is a glow about this woman, a spark of something not from this earth, but from heaven above.
My next novel, The River Keeper is almost ready to do the final read through. I simply can’t wait for you all to read about Granny Jane, Chloe, and Callie Mae. I hope this novel will help you realize that one may never know if they are talking to a human or an angel.
An excerpt from, The River Keeper:
Them beehives is all that’s left between me and Chloe Combs. I now hear them humming out my name… Callie, Callie, come closer. I watch them bees a-coming and a-going. One by one, in and out of them hives, delivering the sweet nectar to their queen. I don’t want no present from Miss Chloe bad enough to get closer to them stingers, so I turn around and head back to Granny Jane’s house. What is the use of visiting someone if you can’t talk to them anyway?
Then, all of a sudden that humming gets louder. It’s turned into a blaring buzz a-popping my eardrums. When I look back over my shoulder, the first thing I see is that Miss Chloe is off the porch and standing by them two beehives. Then she fans the hives with her apron. Lord, she’s a-getting them bees all riled up! I swat at one as it zips past my head. Then before I can run, they are all over me, covering up my skin.
“Help!” I holler. I’m running in circles. I can’t believe it’s me, so I holler on purpose again. “Help me!”
There’s my long lost voice! It sounds queer after two months, and now what good is it if I’m ‘bout to be stung to death by a swarm of honeybees?
For some reason I don’t feel no pain. They ain’t stinging me! Not one prick am I a-feeling. But what I see scares me near into a crazed fit like them hogs in the Bible when they are possessed.
Both my arms are black with bees. I’m afraid to move. I don’t look down at my bare feet ‘cause I know they are black too. Then I hear a “ting, ting, ting” and feel a breeze. One by one them bees lift off my skin and fly back to their queen.
I watch as ever last one of them varmints is gone from me and my skin is pearly white. Then Miss Chloe stops ringing that bell.