Sometimes we talk about angels, but rarely do we really consider that they are active in our lives. As for me, I truly believe they are. Let me tell you why.
I was just 18 years old and had just completed my freshman year at Manhattan Christian College. I had somehow convinced my parents to let me travel alone to Mexico City to work with a mission organization leading Vacation Bible Schools in several towns and villages. I was very excited, but also quite nervous. I had never been on an airplane before and I hadn’t spent any time in a big city on my own, so I really wasn’t sure what to expect. I had written a letter to the mission organization advising them of my time of arrival at the Mexico City airport. That was my first mistake.
When my plane touched down and I had managed to claim my luggage, I began to look around for someone who appeared to be waiting for me. With a growing sense of panic rising in my chest, the realization came to me that there was no one there expecting me. I’m sure I must have appeared to those who took time to notice, like the proverbial deer in the headlights.
After a while, a native Mexican man approached me, very cautiously. I think he was worried that I might have a complete breakdown right there. I was calmed by the fact that he was wearing a jacket with a Wells Fargo emblem on the front pocket. At least it was a name I recognized and could read.
He gently asked me if I needed help. I can’t imagine why he would think so! Since there didn’t seem to be anyone else who was going to come to my rescue, I began to explain my situation.
I was in Mexico City to work with a mission organization for which I had only a name, with a particular missionary, for whom I had only a name, and was to participate in a crash course in conversational Spanish at a language school for which I had only a name. I know, you are wondering why I had no contact information for any of these entities. I wonder that, too, as I look back on it. At the time, I didn’t really think I would need that information, because I assumed someone would meet me at the airport and take me where I was supposed to go. It wasn’t until later that I was informed that the mail service in Mexico was highly unreliable, at least in those days, and that I should have sent a wire message instead. Sigh.
Eduardo, that was the Wells Fargo guy’s name, offered to help me. He said we would be able to go to a place that would have a book of all the Americans living in the city. We could look up the name of the missionary and get his address. I was beginning to see a light coming through the darkness that had surrounded me. But his next words snuffed the light as quickly as it had appeared. It was late in the day, he explained, and everything would be closed, so he could help me secure a hotel room and then take me to find the name in the book tomorrow. Each time I retell this story, my stomach flip-flops, because I think it is at this point in the story when I begin to visualize all the terrible outcomes that could have happened. However, I really didn’t have any other option, other than to sit in the airport all night and cry, wondering what to do next. So I agreed to accept Eduardo’s offer.
He helped me secure a hotel room and get checked in. I honestly don’t remember if I had a credit card or cash or what I used to pay for that room. I know I did have some cash with me because I remember paying for the taxi. I remember closing my hotel room door, getting into a hot bath and crying for most of the night. Eduardo called me and offered to take me to get some food, but I declined, afraid to leave what felt like the safety of my little room.
The next morning, Eduardo was right on time to take me to a place where we would find the magic book with my missionary’s name and address. When I say that Eduardo “took” me to these places, what I really mean is that he secured a taxi for me each time and followed in his own car, or a separate taxi, I’m not sure which. So I was never in a vehicle with him alone. I didn’t realize until recently the significance of that simple act. He wanted me to know that he was completely trustworthy. We did indeed find the name of my missionary and an address, which Eduardo noted down for me on a piece of paper. Once again, he called a taxi for me and gave the driver the address where I should be delivered. Eduardo smiled kindly and asked me if I thought I would be okay now. I really had no idea, but smiled back, thanked him for his help, and went on my way.
The taxi driver dropped me at the address he had been given and drove away. With my luggage in tow, I rang the bell of the two-story home in front of me and waited. From a window above, a woman called down to me in Spanish. I had no clue what she was saying and tried to explain that to her. She disappeared from the window and reappeared at the door. She was able to understand why I was there, and I was able to understand that she was the ex-wife of the missionary and he no longer lived there. I felt the panic rising again. I asked her to please write down an address where I could find her ex-husband, which she did, and then promptly closed the door.
Can you picture the scene? A young American girl, fresh out of a small town in Kansas, completely ignorant about how to get a taxi, walking through a neighborhood in Mexico City, pulling luggage behind me? I tried to appear as confident as I possibly could, as if I knew exactly where I was and what I was doing. I smiled at people who were in their front yards staring at me. Then, praise the Lord, I spotted a taxi and waved him down. So that’s all there is to it? Just wave? Anyway, I showed him the address I now held in my hand and off we went. From the perspective of where I am now, I have ridden in lots of taxis in lots of cities around the world and found them always to be honest, hard-working people, who for the most part, are very nice people. But I didn’t know that back then, and could only rely on my constant prayers to give me assurance that this person would take me where I wanted to go and not somewhere else.
We were obviously in the downtown part of the city when the taxi pulled over and stopped. The driver motioned toward the building in front of me where two men stood working on a vehicle. I thanked the driver, held out my money and he took some of it. Again, it wasn’t until later that I learned he took only the amount of the fare and did not take advantage of my ignorance. As I approached the two men working on the car, they spoke to me in Spanish, and for a moment, my fear started to rise, but as soon as I replied to them in English, they apologized and welcomed me profusely. As I poured out my story, they apologized again and again and assured me that I was at last safe at the mission house where I would be staying with several other students from Christian Colleges in the USA.
Overall, I had a very exciting and educational summer, visiting churches, staying in the homes of the pastors, teaching children about the love of Jesus, learning to speak and to sing in Spanish. All of that is another story on it own. But this particular story is about Eduardo, the Wells Fargo man that met me at the airport and kept me safe.
I kept his business card, along with all my other keepsakes from that summer, and one day, just a few years ago, I was struck by just how much that man did to calm the fears of that young inexperienced traveler back in 1969. I decided I would write a letter to the Wells Fargo Home Offices to try and get an address for Eduardo Portillo. I really wanted to thank him for his kindness to me. One day, in the mail, I received a reply from Wells Fargo that curled my toes. They had no records of an Eduardo Portillo every being employed by them. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized that God had been right there with me all along and had actually assigned one of his angels to protect me and give me save passage to my destination. In the years since that realization, I often find myself offering words of thanks for Eduardo and a job well done. I don’t know about all angels, but in my book, Eduardo is right up there with Gabriel. He will be one of the first on my list to seek out after I walk through the Pearly Gates of Heaven.