After my (now ex) husband left our daughter and me in 1980, I spent a lot of time sitting on the beach. I was so lost, so betrayed, so filled with grief. How could the rest of the world continue on when I was hurting so much? How could people smile and laugh and go on as if my heart wasn’t shattered into pieces?
So I sat on the beach, watching the waves move in and out, trying to get my bearings again. The waves always came to shore and then always pulled back, ever constant. Watching the waves and seeing the world continue on was a salve to my broken spirit.
As I sat there crying one wintry day, a man walked slowly up the shoreline toward me, passed me and then stopped a few feet away. I noticed then that he held a trumpet in his hand. Putting it to his lips, he played that trumpet, the music carrying into the air, over the waves, into my soul. Listening to his music, my heart calmed, my spirit was washed and cleared and I felt a Divine sense of release. I felt my body relax as my eyes closed and I surrendered myself to the moment …a holy moment that shifted my soul and gave me peace. His song finished, the man continued his walk up the beach without a word or a glance at me.
I was in awe at what had just happened. I believe in angel visitations, which, to me, are either people who are divinely guided by their angel guides or who are actual angels manifesting on earth. I didn’t ponder too much over which one my trumpeter was, but I was thankful for his gift to me, a lonely girl crying on an empty beach.
All these years, I’ve remembered that day and the trumpeter on the beach. I always knew it was real, but was it a divinely guided person or an angel? And then I read this story earlier this week, about a man named Andrew Arnold, a body surfer who was known to play his trumpet at the beach where I sat that day in 1980. May your reward be great in heaven, Mr. Arnold. I’ve never forgotten you.