Arco Angel

Yesterday, en route to Davis from San Luis Obispo, I was trying to read my Mapquest instructions while zooming along a six-lane stretch of freeway during rush hour. I lived, but missed a crucial turnoff and ended up some unknown somewhere on a one-way street in a kind of ucky area of Sacramento. I pulled into a gas station to ask for directions. The counter person had been in this country five minutes and spoke Tagalog.

"How do I get to I-80 West?" I asked.

"Ah," he said. "Cheebongbipflapzippyneenee."

"Thank you," I said.

My only other hope was a fellow in a sweatshirt who was filling his Buick Regal. He didn't look like an angel, but clearly that's what he was. "It's a little complicated," he said, "because of all the one-way streets."

Even though he was headed in another direction, he offered to lead me to the freeway. Not only did he get me to the onramp, but he got on himself and maneuvered into the lane next to me so he could mouth the words: "San Francisco" -- which was the direction I needed to take. Then he waved, blew a kiss, and got off at the next exit. Imagine!!! I kept saying out loud, over and over, all the way to Davis: I am so blessed. I am so blessed. I am so blessed.

I arrived in plenty of time to read to a small group of Quakers. I love the Quakers. They're kind of like Christian Buddhists. We sat around a folding table at the Friends Meeting House. They shared a potluck supper, while I read. When I'd finished the story one of the men asked me if I was a Friend. I told him no. He said I sounded like a Friend. That made me happy.

Tonight I read at the Church of Religious Science in Oroville. I love this journey!