Encounter with an Angel

Jeanette Hardage could sometimes be shy about sharing intimate details about herself. For instance, a couple of her most poignant poems disguise her involvement by describing an experience in the third person, using made-up people.

Around 1998, she had an experience that she wanted to share with others, but somehow she never found the right moment or method to do that. Here is a previously unpublished account, composed about 2006, of her very special vision. Surely she is now enjoying the same warmth of God’s love in Heaven.

The Dream

I was asleep, vaguely aware of being cold, but not awake enough to pull up the quilt.  At the same time, a dream took shape, a trip of some sort in progress.  This portion of the dream was somehow familiar, a deja vu of traveling unknown streets in a mystery town by the sea.  My husband was there.  Others were nearby, too, but they were strangers.  We were on foot, all headed toward an unknown event or area, to our left and seaward, when I remarked that I needed to go back to get something.  I turned from the crowd to the right, and hurried along, no longer on a street, but on a path across a dry-grass field. 

Soon I came to a wooden lean-to (a sort of small hay shed) about twelve feet long, with an open front and a high slanted roof.  I felt cold and stopped to put on my jacket.  As I did so, I realized it was quite dark and wondered how safe the area was.  As I looked back toward where I had been, a tall person appeared.  A man, I thought.  I couldn’t see his face, as he was still some distance away, but his arms were lighted up and outstretched, and there was a kind of glow around him.  I was suddenly terrified, as the figure moved nearer, and cried out, “Hello!  Who are you?”  There was no response, and I quickly prayed aloud, “Oh, Lord, please protect me from this angel.”  An angel?  What made me think it was an angel?  Suddenly, the figure was there–and passed right through me.  An incredible feeling of warmth enveloped me–not hot-flash warmth, but warm-bath comfort.

I awoke immediately.  I was not afraid.  I was alert, still cozy warm, and puzzled by this strange memory.  The images and the feelings were more vivid than any I had ever experienced in a dream.  It was some time before I went back to sleep, and all the while I was thinking, “I’ve got to tell everybody about this!”  But morning came, and it seemed just another ordinary morning.  My husband was watching the morning news when I got up, and it didn’t seem to be a good time to interrupt and tell my strange dream.  I went on to work, and it didn’t seem to be the place to share this incredible thing.  In the evening, we dined out, and even then, somehow I just couldn’t get started with my story.  I spoke to a daughter on the telephone later, and once again, I couldn’t even begin my tale.  “Tomorrow,” I thought, “it will be easier to tell someone.”  But tomorrow didn’t come for dream-telling.  It’s still there, though, in the back of my mind for months now.  Did it have any significance?  Perhaps not, but, oh, that wonderful warm feeling–I can almost feel it now.