Who can know the harms that we may have avoided along our daily paths? I often think of this, when I am late leaving for a trip and see a bad crash on the road where I might have been, if I had left on time. I have had countless narrow-misses in traffic, which could have been fatal or worse (there are worse things than dying, in my opinion). There are awful things that still happen, but I just have to wonder at how many angels have caused me to avoid even worse. These are things I ponder, but none as much as a day back in the mid-90s...
Our big, rambling house in Marietta was for sale. It was on a very busy road and we had three mangy boy creatures, all ages 10 and under, and a 5-year-old ballerina. They liked nothing more than exploring and getting into hazardous situations. Our boys had been retrieved and snatched from oncoming traffic more times than I want to remember. Liz usually stood on the side and watched the parade. We were aiming to buy land and move into a camper and build our own house, far off the road and full of other kinds of adventures for our children. Snakes, creeks, stray bullets...those kinds of things.
We didn't ever list our homes with Realtors, no. Who needed a Realtor, when we could do it ourselves? The market was terribly slow, so when a man called that morning to see the house, I was willing to interrupt our school day (we were homeschooling) to accommodate him. He asked if he needed to bring a Realtor and I said no. Because he asked that question, I didn't feel anxious about showing to a stranger, though I thought it was an odd request. His appointment was slated for 1:00.
We ate lunch and I sent the kids out to play while I finished cleaning up the kitchen. At about 12:45, I glimpsed a man, silent, brooding, angry, walking up behind me as I leaned over the dishwasher. He had come into the house, going through several rooms to get to the kitchen, without knocking or hailing me or making his presence known. He had walked probably 6-8 feet into the area without speaking before I noticed him. He was about four feet from me when my spidey-sense kicked in and I immediately wheeled around to face the man. His demeanor and spirit were pure evil. I broke out in goosebumps. My first inclination was to say something like, "I'm sorry, but something has come up and we have to leave." As I considered strategy, I feared that if I did that, he would attack me. Instead, I acted very bright and cheerful, said instant prayers to the Lord and tried to think about how to extricate myself and the children from this situation. I kept myself as far away as I could from him as we walked down the hall to see the living room. He kept furtively trying to get behind me, but I arranged myself so that I was facing him at all times. As we passed the laundry room, our gentle, quiet, "harmless" Golden Retriever, Gracie, suddenly growled, a deep and vicious snarl. She had never behaved like that, even when strangers came to the door. She jumped up and came to my side. I quickly tried to show him the house, all the while keeping myself facing him and trying not to trip over the dog, who was making circles around me as we made our way through. After a few minutes, a couple of the children also came into the house. My heart was pounding, as this man never looked at anything but me. He was not interested in the house at all -- his furious eyes never deviated from staring at me. It did not seem to be a lust-type-of-thing, but more of an extreme and fierce anger emanating from his person. I had never met or seen this man before. I knew that we were in danger and my only defense was to pray and be alert.
And God sent Gracie. To this day, some thirty years later, I believe the dog might have caused this man to be restrained. That, and especially, the mercies of God. After I walked him out, still alert and keeping him from circling behind me, I rushed the other children into the house. His car was an old white vehicle, covered with mold and moss. The license tag on the front of the car was from another state, very far away, and was 25 years old. As he backed the car out, I observed that the rear tag was also 25 years old. I pondered where he'd been for that many years, with his car mouldering under a tree somewhere. One of the boys said to me, after he had left, "Mama, I thought he was going to kill us."
We locked up the house tightly, called Daddy at work and told him what had happened. He told me to head to Grandpa and Grandma's house with the kids until he got home (if I remember correctly, after this, we spent several days heading to their house after breakfast). He searched the house thoroughly and called us to come back when he knew all was clear. We called a Realtor that day to list the house and never saw hide nor hair of the devil man again. The house was eventually sold and we headed for the country life.
Now, our children are long grown, with many children of their own. I got busy with real estate after I was through raising them. But you can bet your boots, if I'm real-estating, I'm packing heat. Jus' sayin'....
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