Kristina's Angel
Stories
Shining Moments
Visions Of The Holy In Ordinary Lives
Theresa Hammerquist
The year after our relocation from Canada to New Berlin, Wisconsin, was extremely difficult for everyone, particularly our four-year-old daughter, Kristina. During our first year in New Berlin, it wasn't uncommon to hear her say, "Nobody likes me. Everyone hates me." All of that would change during a sudden illness that scared all of us out of our wits.
One week before school started in August, 2000, Kristina, awoke early on a Wednesday morning complaining of a headache and fever. It struck me immediately that it could be meningitis, and since she is not one to complain about ailments, I gave her Tylenol, called my mom, who is an RN, and waited for the fever to go down. Later the same morning, she had the same complaints and needed to vomit. Following a mother's instinct, I took her to the doctor, who completed a thorough neurological exam to eliminate bacterial meningitis. Satisfied, I took her home.
Two hours later, I was on the phone with my sister. At the beginning of the conversation, I recall watching my daughters as they played "dress-up." Just as my sister and I were finishing our conversation, Lexie, our oldest, came to tell me that Kristina's head was hurting again. I remained on the phone for a few minutes longer, hung up, and went to Kristina's room.
I was horrified to find her on her bed, purple in color and choking on vomit in her mouth and nose during a seizure. I tried to clear her mouth, but was unable because her jaw was locked from the seizure. I carried her to the kitchen, called 911, and prayed a simple prayer: "More time, she's only four." Lexie ran to tell the neighbor. We were on our way to the hospital via ambulance before I knew it.
When we arrived at the hospital, Kristina was disoriented but otherwise seemed fine. The contrast between the horrible sight in the bedroom and watching the chatty little girl in the hospital pajamas was simply unbelievable. Of course, we didn't know just how unbelievable until weeks after the incident.
Upon discharge from the hospital on Wednesday, she was diagnosed with a febrile seizure. Two days later, on Friday, we returned to Children's Hospital where Kristina was diagnosed with viral meningitis.
The day following her seizure, I took Lexie aside while Kristina played within hearing range and said, "You are a hero! You saved Kristina's life yesterday when you came to tell me that her head hurt. She could have died if it hadn't been for you."
Having heard our conversation, Kristina interrupted and began to flit around the room saying, "But, Mom, I wanted to die, I wanted to fly with the angels!" I distinctly remember, on that same day, as she descended the stairs, Kristina said in a cheerful, exuberant voice, "Mom, everyone loves me. Especially God, he really loves me!" Just days before she had been saying: "Nobody likes me. Everybody hates me." I knew then that God had acted in her life.
Days followed that were filled with similar inspirations from our four-year-old. I didn't know the degree of divine intervention, but I knew I was thankful to God for giving us extra time with her.
A month later, we had a get-together at our house. One friend who came had had a near-death experience during a routine tonsillectomy when she was four years old. Knowing Kristina had been ill, she sensed Kristina's lingering fear and told her she did not need to be afraid. I cherish her words, for they released the miracle.
The evening of the get-together, Kristina sat in the armchair alone and sobbed releasing her fears. I asked, "Why are you crying?"
She replied, "I was afraid when she left."
"When who left?" I asked.
"When the angel left my room to get Lexie to tell you that my head was hurting again. Then she came back and I felt better."
I felt a need to talk to Lexie immediately, to discover her memory of the event. I took her aside separately and asked, "Do you know anything about an angel?"
"No," she replied.
"Where were you when you came to tell me Kristina's head was hurting again?"
"I was in my room, in front of my mirror, putting on a necklace," she said.
I asked, "How did you know Kristina was sick again if you were in a different room?"
"Oh! Yes!" she replied. "I do know about an angel! When I met it ... I mean when I felt it ... I had it in my mind that I needed to tell you about Kristina."
I asked, "How did you know it was an angel?"
She replied, "I was in my room, standing in front of the mirror, putting on a necklace when I felt it. I felt a small wind. I know a fan wasn't going. I knew something or someone was there telling me about Kristina. It was in my mind to tell you." When we talked about the incident, she distinguished the angel as Kristina's angel, not her angel. She was very particular about this point.
The power of God and his messengers is unbelievable! I pray that God will keep the memory clear in our minds so we never forget the awesome blessing he gave us on that ordinary Wednesday in August.
The year after our relocation from Canada to New Berlin, Wisconsin, was extremely difficult for everyone, particularly our four-year-old daughter, Kristina. During our first year in New Berlin, it wasn't uncommon to hear her say, "Nobody likes me. Everyone hates me." All of that would change during a sudden illness that scared all of us out of our wits.
One week before school started in August, 2000, Kristina, awoke early on a Wednesday morning complaining of a headache and fever. It struck me immediately that it could be meningitis, and since she is not one to complain about ailments, I gave her Tylenol, called my mom, who is an RN, and waited for the fever to go down. Later the same morning, she had the same complaints and needed to vomit. Following a mother's instinct, I took her to the doctor, who completed a thorough neurological exam to eliminate bacterial meningitis. Satisfied, I took her home.
Two hours later, I was on the phone with my sister. At the beginning of the conversation, I recall watching my daughters as they played "dress-up." Just as my sister and I were finishing our conversation, Lexie, our oldest, came to tell me that Kristina's head was hurting again. I remained on the phone for a few minutes longer, hung up, and went to Kristina's room.
I was horrified to find her on her bed, purple in color and choking on vomit in her mouth and nose during a seizure. I tried to clear her mouth, but was unable because her jaw was locked from the seizure. I carried her to the kitchen, called 911, and prayed a simple prayer: "More time, she's only four." Lexie ran to tell the neighbor. We were on our way to the hospital via ambulance before I knew it.
When we arrived at the hospital, Kristina was disoriented but otherwise seemed fine. The contrast between the horrible sight in the bedroom and watching the chatty little girl in the hospital pajamas was simply unbelievable. Of course, we didn't know just how unbelievable until weeks after the incident.
Upon discharge from the hospital on Wednesday, she was diagnosed with a febrile seizure. Two days later, on Friday, we returned to Children's Hospital where Kristina was diagnosed with viral meningitis.
The day following her seizure, I took Lexie aside while Kristina played within hearing range and said, "You are a hero! You saved Kristina's life yesterday when you came to tell me that her head hurt. She could have died if it hadn't been for you."
Having heard our conversation, Kristina interrupted and began to flit around the room saying, "But, Mom, I wanted to die, I wanted to fly with the angels!" I distinctly remember, on that same day, as she descended the stairs, Kristina said in a cheerful, exuberant voice, "Mom, everyone loves me. Especially God, he really loves me!" Just days before she had been saying: "Nobody likes me. Everybody hates me." I knew then that God had acted in her life.
Days followed that were filled with similar inspirations from our four-year-old. I didn't know the degree of divine intervention, but I knew I was thankful to God for giving us extra time with her.
A month later, we had a get-together at our house. One friend who came had had a near-death experience during a routine tonsillectomy when she was four years old. Knowing Kristina had been ill, she sensed Kristina's lingering fear and told her she did not need to be afraid. I cherish her words, for they released the miracle.
The evening of the get-together, Kristina sat in the armchair alone and sobbed releasing her fears. I asked, "Why are you crying?"
She replied, "I was afraid when she left."
"When who left?" I asked.
"When the angel left my room to get Lexie to tell you that my head was hurting again. Then she came back and I felt better."
I felt a need to talk to Lexie immediately, to discover her memory of the event. I took her aside separately and asked, "Do you know anything about an angel?"
"No," she replied.
"Where were you when you came to tell me Kristina's head was hurting again?"
"I was in my room, in front of my mirror, putting on a necklace," she said.
I asked, "How did you know Kristina was sick again if you were in a different room?"
"Oh! Yes!" she replied. "I do know about an angel! When I met it ... I mean when I felt it ... I had it in my mind that I needed to tell you about Kristina."
I asked, "How did you know it was an angel?"
She replied, "I was in my room, standing in front of the mirror, putting on a necklace when I felt it. I felt a small wind. I know a fan wasn't going. I knew something or someone was there telling me about Kristina. It was in my mind to tell you." When we talked about the incident, she distinguished the angel as Kristina's angel, not her angel. She was very particular about this point.
The power of God and his messengers is unbelievable! I pray that God will keep the memory clear in our minds so we never forget the awesome blessing he gave us on that ordinary Wednesday in August.
