the Antioch Angel, a Christmas story

33 Antioch in Delaware was my home for 3 years, though the significance of that location only recently became apparent.  As is often the case, God shields his intent until or if it is necessary.

Biblically speaking, Antioch is where the first Gentile church was founded.  It was from there that St Paul started on his 3 missions.  It is no coincidence and does not go unnoticed this Christmas that in my 15 years since I was a resident of the small Delware community called Antioch Court, I have turned my life over to Christ.  Medical missions have been an integral part of my life since I departed my Antioch family, and I recently started a nonprofit to better serve those in need of medical assistance.  I am no Saint as was Paul.  Far from it, I am as fallible as the next and in constant need of forgiveness.  But this story is not about me, but how random acts of kindness serve the greater good.  One random act of kindness occurred during my time at Antioch and I share this Christmas story with you in hopes that you recognize that each and every deed will reverberate into the future of those you affect.

It was the summer of 1999 when my uHaul pulled up and my dog, Kiesha, jumped out unexpectedly in front of the townhome.  My new neighbor, Dream, immediately let me know that a poorly trained or loud pet would not be tolerated.  I apologized profusely and reprimanded my pet for starting things off on the wrong paw.  I am just happy the dog did not eat the oversized pink lace butterfly on her hedge.   I often wonder where Dream and her butterflies are.

I was a single and newly minted physician, starting my Emergency Medicine residency training.  This could also be described as 3 years of life-draining, soul-sucking agonizing torture.  Well documented in many current TV shows, I won't belabor the trials and tribulations of the Resident physician life.  Suffice it to say, it was not much of a life and the pay was just sufficient to cover the bills.

But I had an Antioch Angel.  For some reason, this unassuming neighbor at the end of the court decided to take me under her wing.  She was a bit older than my 34 years, and definitely wiser.  I distinctly remember her cozy home filled with antiques, dolls and adventures in taxidermy.  There was always something sumptuous on the stove, and if I was lucky [which was more often than not], I would get be treated to something other than free bagels from the drug company du'jour at the hospital.  If there were ever a weekend I had free from the ER, you could bet I was at my angel's garden repose drinking coffee and enjoying a pastry before going into a coma for as long as possible before the next 12 hour shift.  It was a small piece of heaven, away from the screams, death, blood, alarms, EMS calls, and drama that surrounds a major trauma center.

I did manage to escape for a month to do an Orthopedics rotation in Denver one December.  My angel of course kept an eye on my home.  In true angel fashion, when I pulled up from a 13+ hour cross country drive, there was a small blue and white crock pot with bubbly wonderfulness awaiting me.  It was a Christmas surprise to walk into a warm home with the smell of stew permeating the kitchen.  I kept that crock pot through 5 moves and 13 years and sadly retired it only when my boyfriend gave me a new one large enough to accommodate his larger appetite.  It doesn't seem to cook the tasty meals that came out of my angel's crock though.

The whirlwind of Residency ended with the dubious honor as being named Chief Resident about the same day my father was diagnosed with terminal prostate cancer.  He was given 2 years and unfortunately fulfilled that destiny.  My weekends were no longer spent at that little piece of heaven at my Angel's garden.  They were spent driving 18 hours roundtrip to spend as much time possible with my father.  His one regret was always that he retired too late to ever do mission work.  It was then I promised to do it for him.  Now I do it for Him, through my nonprofit AiMIN [Aid for Medically Indigent].

Sadly, I lost track of many old friends over the next 13 years.  That was before facebook and the internet made this almost inexcusable.  I heard that tiny voice out of the blue a few weeks ago to look up my Antioch angel.  Miraculously she was on facebook, thank you Mark Zuckerberg.  We have barely had the time to reconnect when I noticed a post she had made, imploring help for her neighbor who was to be evicted on Christmas day.  Who else but the Antioch angel would start such a campaign?  I understand business, having been a landlord, but this was disgraceful.  Our Lord Jesus Christ was homeless on Christmas, have we not come any further along than this?

I was blessed to have an angel through some difficult times.  Now there was someone else in my old 'hood who was having harder times than I can ever imagine.   The next voice I heard was 'pay it forward'. Without the Lord's numerous blessings, my angel's support, as well as the incredible support of my family from afar, I would not be where I am today.  Through AiMIN's Christmas Pay-it-Forward gift, we were able to give Mrs Marshall the Christmas present that our Lord never received....her home.   Welcome back home, Mrs Marshall. May you be blessed in the New Year with a full recovery and a landlord with a more compassionate heart.

And to my Antioch Angel, you know who you are.  Thank you for all the random acts of kindness you do...they have multiplied beyond what you can imagine.