Angels amongst us?

I recently had an odd experience.  What makes it really odd is the fact that this event wasn’t the first time I’ve had the same type of experience.  I mentioned this on Facebook, so for those of you who might read this twice, I apologize, but I'm trying to sort it out.

Several years ago, and by several I mean more than 10, I went with my sisters and my mother to a merchandise show in New Orleans.  To get on the selling floor you had to wear a nametag to confirm your worthiness.  Being a seasoned conference attendee I know to remove my nametag as soon as I leave a venue so as not to call attention to myself and invite strangers to become too familiar.  On the way home we stopped at a truck stop in Slidell to eat supper and buy lottery tickets.   Two things my family has always enjoyed are food and lottery tickets.  (I’ve heard of late that one sister enjoys the scratch off tickets so much she will resort to claiming a prize possibly belonging to someone else.  But that’s another story.)  We sat down at a table, and a waitress came and took our order.  I don’t remember whose order she took first, but I remember she took my order last.  She was standing to my right the entire order-taking time, and when she made it around the table to me, this waitress I had never seen before she first approached our table, looked at me and said, “What can I get for you, Elizabeth?”   No one else at the table seemed to hear her but me.  I didn’t really know how to respond except to give her my order.  I remember thinking she must have read my nametag, but being a seasoned conference attendee I had removed my nametag as soon as we left the convention center in New Orleans.

The second experience I had was this past Saturday night in New Orleans.  My husband and children took me to New Orleans for an early birthday celebration.  We went to an indoor/outdoor restaurant and sat outside.  All of the servers were outfitted in their best and brightest Saints jerseys in honor of the home game being played across town later that evening.  I left the table and went inside to go to the restroom.  In this place there is a ramp that goes up from the dining room to the kitchen and restrooms.  When I started up the ramp a young waiter wearing his best and brightest black and gold was coming down the ramp from the kitchen.  As we passed each other he gently clutched my upper arm and said, “Happy New Year, Miss Elizabeth,” and kept on walking.  At first I thought maybe he was one of my international students or student workers, because they are the only ones who call me “Miss” Elizabeth.  His accent was foreign indeed, but only as foreign as any other Louisianan.  No, this guy was American, I’m sure, and I’m sure I’ve never met him before in my life.

When I posted this on Facebook a friend asked me if I had any theories.  Actually, I have been mulling over a few.  The simplest explanation is these two people overheard someone else say my name and repeated it to be friendly and familiar.  But I think this is a pessimist’s opinion, and I am an eternal optimist.  My glass is always at least ¾ full.

The part of me that knows there is more to life than life believes there is a definite spiritual intervention going on here.  The part of me that feels in my bones that there is more to reincarnation than a cosmic do-over believes that these people, or souls, I encountered are souls I may have known in another time.  They might not even know they called me by name, it might be some subliminal action they are unaware of effecting.

Again drawing on the spiritual theme, they could be “angels unawares” as another friend noted.  Messengers from God with a message in their short acknowledged greeting affirming yes, Elizabeth, I know you.  You are so important I know your name, as in Jeremiah 1:5, “Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee…”

Maybe they are not even angels, but the Almighty Himself using these two servers as instruments to convey the same message.  Maybe I have even given this same message of affirmation to someone without even realizing it.  Maybe we all do.

My final theory so far (there may be more at a later date) is really remote, but nothing is impossible to this ¾ full optimist.  Like Douglas Adams' unsuspecting rain god, maybe I am famous and don’t even know it.  But apparently, I’m only famous to the food service industry in Louisiana.