Читать книгу An Angel Called My Name: Incredible true stories from the other side - Theresa Cheung, Theresa Cheung - Страница 18

About ten years ago I was, in the eyes of the world, extremely successful. I ran my own business and it was thriving. I lived in a large house in a leafy suburb and had a holiday home in Spain. I had a lovely wife and three beautiful grown-up children thriving in their jobs or at university. I had a close circle of friends and my health was good. My cup was full; but looking back I wasn’t nearly as fulfilled as I thought I was.

Ever since my children left home I had kind of lost my way. Instead of slowing down to deal with my feelings of loss and fear of getting old I speeded up. I expanded my business and invested in several properties abroad. I splashed out on a ridiculously expensive Porsche I didn’t really need.

One Sunday afternoon my wife and I were invited to an afternoon gathering by Alan, one of my oldest friends. Alan had been a great help me to in the early days of my business, offering to lend me money when no one else would and I was forever in his debt. When we arrived at the party everyone present was well dressed and eloquent but there was one person completely out of place. Sitting hunched and dishevelled in a distant corner with a confused expression on his face was a middle-aged man. His clothes looked like they had come from a charity shop. I had never met him before and when I asked Alan who he was I was immediately introduced to ‘Thomas’. Reluctantly, I held out my hand and Thomas grabbed it, grinning enthusiastically and revealing a set of yellow teeth.

It was then that this smell hit me. This guy smelled strongly of lavender soap. I remember thinking how strange it was for someone so untidy to smell so good. I scanned the room for Alan to rescue me but he was mingling with other members of the group and had his back turned to me. I stayed for a few moments with Thomas, and talked about the weather I think, before pretending I needed to go to the rest room.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon so we stayed at the gathering, enjoying the tonic of good conversation and good food. As people were starting to drift home Alan took me aside and asked me to if I could do him a big favour. He told me that he had joined a volunteer programme and was giving Thomas a ride every day from his doctor back to his care home. He was going on holiday for ten days the following week and needed someone to take Thomas instead while he was away.

I quickly glanced at Thomas nodding off in the same corner that I had left him and said to Alan, ‘Look mate, I really don’t think I’m the person you should be asking. I’m rushed off my feet at the moment with work and the new properties. I just don’t think I’ve got the time.’ Alan looked disappointed so I tried to make a joke of it. ‘Have pity, mate. I’ve just bought a brand new Porsche. It’s my pride and joy. No offence, but this guy would cramp my style.’

I tried to walk away but Alan wouldn’t have any of it. He grabbed my arm, looked me directly in the eye and told me that it really wasn’t much to ask and besides I owed him. I was shocked. This was the first time Alan had ever tried to use emotional blackmail. I wasn’t having it. I didn’t want anything to do with this uncouth Thomas guy. For the first time ever, Alan and I parted company that evening with a stilted handshake and pursed lips.

The next day as I was driving in my brand new Porsche, I was suddenly aware of a strong smell of lavender in my car. It reminded me of Thomas. I rolled down my windows thinking it must have come from outside.

The next day I gave my wife a lift in the Porsche and the lavender smell was as strong as ever. I asked my wife if she could smell it but she didn’t know what I was talking about. I didn’t know what was causing it. For the next few days, every time I drove the lavender smell would accompany me. Sometimes I thought it wouldn’t arrive but within ten minutes of driving I felt like I was in a flower shop.

The Sunday after the party I got a phone call from Alan. He begged me to collect Thomas just this one time from the doctor because his wife was down with flu and he needed to be there for her. He said he had tried everyone else before calling me but they were either on vacation or out shopping and I was his last hope. I surprised myself by agreeing. I drove to the doctors and picked up Thomas, feeling more than a little ticked off that I was doing something I really didn’t want to.

Thomas was waiting outside the surgery. He said, ‘Thank you,’ as he got into the car and shifted clumsily in his seat. I glanced at him nervously in my rearview mirror throughout the journey. He was watching the passing scenery with curiosity and excitement; just like my children used to when they were younger. He said nothing as I drove him to his care home, except, ‘Thank you again,’ as he was leaving. I watched him hobble into the centre and then drove slowly home. It was only when I was close to home that I realized that the lavender smell had mysteriously vanished from inside my car – or perhaps I had simply grown accustomed to it.

Alan called that evening to ask how everything went and to thank me. As the experience hadn’t been as unpleasant or as inconvenient as I thought I found myself agreeing to be Thomas’s taxi when Alan went on his holiday. And something amazing happened to me during those ten days. The time I thought I didn’t have began to appear. I started to call Thomas by his name and he called me by mine. He was a man of few words but they were well-chosen words. On the last day we didn’t go directly back to his care home. We stopped for a drink instead. I started to like this guy and although I saw people around him do a double take, it didn’t matter to me any more. When I dropped him off for the last time that day and said he should expect Alan in the morning he turned around and said, ‘Thanks mate. People never cease to surprise me. I had you down as a guy who only thought about himself and making money. I was wrong. That will teach me to judge others by the way they look.’

I couldn’t believe Thomas was saying that. I was the one who had judged. I was the one who had got it wrong. When Alan returned from his holiday he was keen to hear how things had been going with Thomas. I told him everything had been fine; more than fine in fact, and I liked the guy. I was curious so I asked Alan to tell me a bit about Thomas and how he had ended up like this. Alan then told me that Thomas had once been a surgeon but had been forced to give up the job he loved after being hit by a cyclist five years earlier. The accident had left him with head, leg and back injuries from which he would never recover. He had no living relatives or family to take care of him. He now required daily medical monitoring and daily medication. He had seizures quite regularly, wobbled when he walked and couldn’t drive.

Alan went on to tell me that he had witnessed one of the relentless seizures Thomas suffered from. During the seizure Thomas had lost control of his bodily functions and vomited on himself before losing consciousness. Paramedics had to be called to clean him up and get him back on his feet. Thomas felt deeply embarrassed by these incidents and concerned that other people might be bothered by unpleasant smells. He overcompensated by zealously washing and using bottles and bottles of lavender fabric conditioner on his clothes.

Driving in my car the next day, and the day after, without Thomas to pick up or drop off didn’t seem so great. I had this fabulous car and this fabulous life but I missed helping Thomas. Somehow when I had been his taxi I hadn’t felt so lost or directionless. I called Alan to ask if he would like to share the rides with Thomas. Alan happily agreed and for the next 18 months Thomas became a part of my daily routine and my life.

Although Thomas died over eight years ago, to this day his lavender scent is indelibly inscribed in my senses. I really met him against my will. If it were my choice I never would have allowed this helpless and unkempt looking man into my precious car and into my life. But Thomas taught me that angels can appear in many different forms and in circumstances you cannot expect or anticipate. I still don’t know why my car smelled like him before he had even got into it. One thing I do know is that the scent of Thomas taught a man suffering from a debilitating case of self-centredness and a critical case of hardness of heart to open his heart and his mind. That man was me.

George’s story shows that angels can take us on journeys we didn’t know we needed to go on and transform our lives in the most unexpected ways. In translation, the word ‘angel’ actually means messenger, and because the messages angels bring are always those of wisdom, guidance and inspiration they are also teachers.

Although Ruby did not recognize a distinctive scent as George did, she very clearly received a powerful and life-changing message from her angel. In her own words, she tells her story.