Angels In Haunted Places
Stories
Shining Moments
Visions Of The Holy In Ordinary Lives
Richard H. Gentzler, Jr.
My interest in angels began rather abruptly one sunny, summer afternoon while visiting Hershey Park, in Hershey, Pennsylvania. "Let's go into the Haunted Fun House," I suggested gleefully. Although I had never been in a Haunted Fun House before, the bright lights of the marquee intrigued me. "No," came the quick response. None of my family members, including my parents, aunts and uncles, and grandparents had any desire to enter a "Haunted" Fun House. I whined and pleaded with them to let me go in by myself. "No, you're too young," they retorted. "I'm big enough to go by myself," I implored. And, like many a young boy, I pestered them until they finally gave in.
Perhaps you have experienced the joys and delights of a Haunted Fun House. I didn't. This Fun House was not fun at all. At seven years of age, I found the Fun House dark and scary. When I entered through the doorway, I could see nothing. Nothing, that is, except pitch-blackness. Suddenly the door shut and I stood inside, alone. I tried taking several steps, but I could not see a thing. My eyes had not yet adjusted from the bright daylight to the complete and utter darkness of the room. My heart started racing. I was overcome with great fear. I could not find my way through the dark maze. I was alone and very frightened. Soon I began to whimper. My eyes filled with tears and I started crying, uncontrollably. I couldn't see. I couldn't move. I was frozen in utter darkness.
Then, an angel appeared. Not that I could see the angel, but a hand reached out and grabbed my hand. The angel whispered assuringly, "Don't cry, little boy, everything will be all right." And it was. The angel's voice was so reassuring and comforting that I quickly stopped crying. Before I knew it, the angel led me through the dark maze of the tortuous "Fun" House.
When we exited the building, I wiped the tears from my eyes. The angel, still holding my hand and walking next to me, was a teenage girl. She was a stranger to me, but she was my angel. She had led me safely through the unknown, and reassured me with her voice and gentle touch. Angels come in all sizes and ages and places. Sometimes, angels even come to little boys in dark, fearful Haunted Fun Houses.
My interest in angels began rather abruptly one sunny, summer afternoon while visiting Hershey Park, in Hershey, Pennsylvania. "Let's go into the Haunted Fun House," I suggested gleefully. Although I had never been in a Haunted Fun House before, the bright lights of the marquee intrigued me. "No," came the quick response. None of my family members, including my parents, aunts and uncles, and grandparents had any desire to enter a "Haunted" Fun House. I whined and pleaded with them to let me go in by myself. "No, you're too young," they retorted. "I'm big enough to go by myself," I implored. And, like many a young boy, I pestered them until they finally gave in.
Perhaps you have experienced the joys and delights of a Haunted Fun House. I didn't. This Fun House was not fun at all. At seven years of age, I found the Fun House dark and scary. When I entered through the doorway, I could see nothing. Nothing, that is, except pitch-blackness. Suddenly the door shut and I stood inside, alone. I tried taking several steps, but I could not see a thing. My eyes had not yet adjusted from the bright daylight to the complete and utter darkness of the room. My heart started racing. I was overcome with great fear. I could not find my way through the dark maze. I was alone and very frightened. Soon I began to whimper. My eyes filled with tears and I started crying, uncontrollably. I couldn't see. I couldn't move. I was frozen in utter darkness.
Then, an angel appeared. Not that I could see the angel, but a hand reached out and grabbed my hand. The angel whispered assuringly, "Don't cry, little boy, everything will be all right." And it was. The angel's voice was so reassuring and comforting that I quickly stopped crying. Before I knew it, the angel led me through the dark maze of the tortuous "Fun" House.
When we exited the building, I wiped the tears from my eyes. The angel, still holding my hand and walking next to me, was a teenage girl. She was a stranger to me, but she was my angel. She had led me safely through the unknown, and reassured me with her voice and gentle touch. Angels come in all sizes and ages and places. Sometimes, angels even come to little boys in dark, fearful Haunted Fun Houses.
